Autumn colours

A few colours from the garden – such as my lovely little acer which, when it has dropped its leaves, will be displaying  glowing yellow, red tipped stems all through the winter.

And then the hydrangea. Apart from one unkillable pink Japanese anemone, this is the only plant which remains from the original garden – and it is very fine. A mighty bush with glorious white lace-cap flowers in the summer which go this wonderful musty pink in autumn.

Also displaying musty pink leaves is the big azalea. The question is, will it display lots of flame flowers come next May? I need to feed it iron at regular intervals but I have not been very organised so can never remember whether I have fed it enough. It needs its own diary….

And battling on through October – the very jolly and immensely good value non-stop begonias. Although they took quite a battering from the wind today so not sure how much longer they will last.

Meanwhile, down in Exmouth where I was last weekend with Sue Cane, there were some very splendid – and quirky – trees. We saw this extraordinary lopsided pine on our walk along the estuary from Lympstone to Topsham. As far as we could see the branches on the right hand side had not been cut off, they had just never grown as there were other trees in the way!

But most of them were at Killerton House, a fine 18th century house just outside Exeter donated to the National Trust in 1944 by Sir Richard Acland, a socialist peer who did not believe in inherited wealth. It houses, among other goodies, some very fine 20th century fashion and the most extraordinary collection of pencil and pen and ink sketches of every member of the Aclands’ London club over period of half a century.

But it also has glorious grounds on a gently rising hill overlooking the valley – and some stunning trees all now turning colour.

I have no idea what this vibrant red one was.

Another quirky pine – the victim no doubt of some earlier storm – or could it have been a lightening strike?

Some huge sweet chestnuts with their  characteristic swirling trunks.

And more glorious red leaves – or are they flowers? I am afraid I don’t know as I failed to call in the help of the invaluable Picture This.

Once back in London, the rains lashed and the winds blew – and then all of a sudden as I was walking past the Boating Pond, the sun came out and all was calm.