Reclaiming Palestinian gardens in Battersea

The title is somewhat oblique: the gardens in question are those remembered and symbolised by Palestinian weavers in a treasure piece of embroidery which had fallen apart, due, I gather, to too much exposure to the sun. So when I learned through my friend Cally that a work colleague of her godson Sasha (wonderful human being) had set up a collaboration with traditional weavers in Beirut - where both of them lived and worked for a time I jumped at the chance of a repare. Back in November Cal and I went along to see Larissa von Planta showing her work and taking commissions on the top floor of a gallery in Dean Street. Most of the commissions were to add embroidery to existing garments, but Larissa was very much 'can do' re the cushion cover.

She was impressed with the provenance, Al-Inaash, known as the finest in Lebanon. We'd bought the design at a gathering with the Beirut Ladies Who Lunch, and having paid very little for fine Syrian work, were a bit taken aback by the price. But I'm glad we went for it. Larissa guaranteed to have the repair back from Beirut before Christmas - it was going to be a surprise present for J - but, as she later told me, wasn't satisfied with the work, sent it back and then did further work on the detail in London. She wouldn't take any more money for the extra labour. And I got to visit her in a part of London I didn't know, the area around Battersea Square. There's a splendid Dicksonia antarctica in her garden whiich formed a suitable backdrop to the presentation.

I decided to take the afternoon off and explore the area. So I took a bus down to the south side of Wandsworth Bridge and walked along the Thames Path from there (not a stretch I've done before). Even the unwieldy roundabout has had some rather splendid muralling, which includes a cubist version of my favourite bird, the goldfinch.

The luxury flats, despite their colourful names referencing the spice warehouses which had been here before, are characterless, and to judge from the folk walking along there, house Eurotrash/drugs trade folk when there's anyone there at all. But at least something has been done to reclam nature on the river side of the path

and there are plenty of unafraid ducks about.

A helicopter was coming in to land - noisy, expensive brute - which made me realise the heliport is on this side of the river. Quite a few folk had gathered to gape through the fence at whichever celebrity was landing; I moved on, enjoying the sem-glimpse from the north side

and various bridge views to offset the general tedium of the architecture. 

At last I came in sight of St Mary's, Battersea Parish Church, a place apart.

on a site occupied by a religious building as early as 800. Westminster Abbey was granted ownership and, the guidebook tells me, 'devoted the revenues from "Batricescie" to the support of the Convent Infirmary'. The present church of 1775-7 is more or less what we see now, and though there are many additions inside, not least since WW2 bombing, harmony rules.

The oldest glass is in the east window, its framework imitating the pointed opening of 1379. The panels painted by Bernard van Linge were inserted in 1631 by Sir John St John on his succession to the Lordship of the Manor. Pompously, it outlines his 'ancient and noble descent', with Henry VII, Margaret Beauchamp and Queen Elizabeth I marking connections to the House of Tudor.

To the left is a circular window with the holy Lamb, one of two made by James Pearson in 1796 (the Dove window's fragments were collected and added to new painting by Joan Howson in 1946).

Most interesting, perhaps, not least for the church's links to the great and good, are the four windows added between 1976 and 1982, designed and made by John Hayward of Edenbridge, Kent. If you walk clockwise, the first is to J M W Turner, who lived opposite for a time and took a boat over to the church to paint from there.

The church and the river feature in the bottom right hand corner. 

Next along celebrates the wedding in the church of William Blake and Catherine Butcher (featured in the double portrait bottom left).

The detail here is especially fine in referencing Blake's art and poetry (though of course it doesn't quote the 'signs of weakness, signs of woe' he detected on the London scene.

Less well known to me are military man Benedict Arnold, of dubious fame (I'll pass over him) and the botanist William Curtis, framed with a chapter of flowers from his book Flora Londoniensis.

To the left are the arms of the Society of Apothecaries, which can also be seen on the other side of the river atop the south gate of the Chelsea Physic Garden. It shows Apollo, the god of healing, victorious over the serpent of disease (I framed a postcard of it for a friend in hospital several years ago). The rhino is not so sound a symbol, given the mumbo-jumbo about its horn containing healing properties.

After coffee with Larissa and friend in nearby Battersea Square, I resumed my river walk. The modern build-up continues, but at least there's still a glimpse of Lots Road Power Station, whatever it's used for now, between the high-rises

and the slightly more distinguished new edifices on the south side are used for enticing-looking offices, one clearly for a firm of architects.

Familiar territory came into view beyond Battersea Bridge

and then I was back in the park, full of spring planting (looking across here to Albert Bridge).

The English Garden, never over-frequented, is getting better by the year. It's still early, but irises are flourishing,

the first pulsatilla I've seen in flower this year at the end of the pond,

 and a lilac, with peonies growing up fast.

More lilacs and others around the London Peace Pagoda (the dog was delightfully lively).

I always enjoy catching a sight of the ring-tailed lemurs through the fences of the Children's Zoo.

Then out past fern plantation

and over Chelsea Bridge, with Battersea Power Station - now a mecca of mammon - on one side and louring clouds on the other.

Finally on the north side, with plenty of spring foliage in front of Chelsea Hospital,

and up to Sloane Square tube. The kind of afternoon that keeps me in love with London.

Weekly cycles to Kew 2021 2: March - June

Last year, I only reached the end of February in my photo-chronicle of the lifesaving Fridays shared with friend Cally during the darkest phase of lockdown, when nothing was happening at all on the live cultural scene. We carried it on to mid-June, and those treasured bike rides, leisurely walks, soup on a bench, tea and cake on another bench later, still stand out as a highlight of 2021. I feel I need to pick up the trail now especially because after the big train jaunt, January in London has felt more than usually bleak, despite a few days of brilliant sunshine. Picking and sorting these images has been a tonic - not just nostalgic, but also a reminder that lushness and colour will return.

What's a bit hard at the moment is that the winter visitors out back, the goldfinches, and in Margravine Cemetery, the redwings, don't seem to have returned. I felt a spring in my step after seeing one of the two bitterns regularly to be sighted at the London Wetland Centre. But I'm waiting for major colour like this, from two Green Woodpeckers, which greeted us on our 6 March visit.

Other action in early March was slow. The magnolia grove was about to burst, though,

and there was a rare silvery light on the Thames as I cycled back.

Elsewhere - and I make no apologies for natural digressions - spring was more in evidence. The spaliered fruit trees along the wall of Fulham Palace's Walled Garden had started to blossom

and the first of the bees from the nearby hives (sadly reduced from last year) were on to them.

while winter's relics, the Hellebores, were putting on a fine show at the Chelsea Physic Garden.

The following Friday at Kew, the magnolias were very much out. I'm resisting a gallery of them, since I offered that in 2020, but this shot will suffice.

It was time, too, for the pulsatillas or pasque flowers in the Alpine rockery, a personal favourite.

Time was short on 19 January, so instead of the big cycle we kept it more local to Cally, taking advantage of low tide to cross over to the eyot at Chiswick Mall (for me, the most enchanting spot on the river, never the same twice). Much work had been done in late winter in the way of pruning by the dedicated locals who look after it, so major growth was yet to come.

The grand magnolia in flower in front of the big house on Chiswick Mall

and daffodils around the lake in Chiswick House's glorious grounds

then over the river to the Leg of Mutton nature reserve, whitethorn blossom providing contrast among the reeds

and above the water.

First of the Peacock Butterflies fluttering around and settling on the headstones in the graveyard of my old haunt All Saints Banstead, on a visit to see my ma, such a warm day for 30 March.

1 April, and some of the blossom was now reaching peak form back at Kew

along with the magnolias - Stellata pictured here.

Finally, too, it was fritillary time in the neighbouring meadow (quite early, I think - early May is the usual).

And the pulsatillas were no longer isolated clumps, but abundant.

Couldn't resist the plumage of this male Mandarin Duck

and at home, on the fence between the back yards and the school playground, a goldfinch was showing itself to best advantage.

Tulip and pear blossom time back at the Fulham Palace Walled Garden

and cowslips at the Wetland Centre

Yellow season much enriched, too, by marsh marigolds.

Gunnera incipient in the Pantanal zone.

This is really the home of the adorable Whistling Ducks and Screamers, though the most interesting activity was the nest-building activity of a moorhen couple:

First time I'd been here in the spring, so I was surprised to come across more fritallaries sharing swampy ground with more marsh marigolds on the south walk.

Kew's more manicured fritillary meadow again - 16 April - not sure how we came to miss a Friday -

the arrival of the tulips in the meadows either side of the prunus avenue

and more blossoming in the orchards between the Temperate House and the Pagoda, though not evenly so (the great glory of 2020, the Yoshino cherry, was not so spectacular this year).

My first acquaintance with a real oddity (to me), Cornus 'Ormonde', in a glade beyond the larches,

and first sign of leafing in the avenue of horse chestnuts leading to our usual entrance/exit.

Can't resist the interlude of a mackerel sky above Old Brompton Cemetery

where I first heard, and finally saw, a Great Spotted Woodpecker.

So to the glorious 23rd April, everything along the river and at Kew waxing lyrical. The beginnings of the finest wisteria blossom along Chiswick Mall

though it has to be said that a more sheltered specimen against a white wall was doing better at this point.

At Kew, first of the peonies were flourishing - bee-kissed Paeonia cambesedesii by the Alpine House

as well as these in the Alpine rockery proper

The rockery lushed up last year better than I can ever remember it doing before,

including among the bloomers an oddity I hadn't seen before, the Cuban Lily (Scilla peruviana).

and the vegetable beds the other side of the wall showed first signs of life with the fruit trees along the edges

with tulips in serried ranks further north - these beds awakening at last from their long winter sleep.

Bluebells at last in the woodland zone.

The cycles to and fro along the Surrey side of the Thames reminded me how far the trees had come into leaf since we started our excursions at the beginning of the year.

More abundance: horse chestnuts and early moonrise in front of the Chelsea Hospital.

Meanwhile, another back yard regular returned, or made self manifest, the Dunnock. A family was soon evident.

Last Kew trip of April, on the 30th, and first proper visit of the year to the beds of the Duke's Garden, which would offer the biggest profusion within weeks. For now, some of the peonies both here and further north had emerged.

All greenhouse remained closed during the semi-lockdown, so we could only peer through the windows at the Amazonicas in the Waterlily House.

Bluebells, Spanish chestnuts and beeches in the woods had come on magnificently

and the ongoing glories of the orchards near the pagoda made for an extended idyll (fell asleep on a nearby bench in the sun).

On the return route, a very high tide at Chiswick Mall opposite the eyot made for a welcome lingering, and the approach of a fearless swan.

May Day morning turned about to be an ideal choice for 4am rising and five hours around the dawn chorus experience at the Leg of Mutton reserve, about which I wrote closer to the time. The month continued to do what we expect of it. Cycling back to Kew on the 7th, I found the Chiswick Mall wisteria in its full glory

and the eyot duly lushing up.

Newly flourishing in the rock garden, sundry aquilegias, foreground to ferns and peonies.

Hadn't expected to see a yellow tree peony this late, but here's one at the foot of the temple knoll.

At last the glorious Judas Trees are in full bloom - first encounter with this one in the Mediterranean garden zone. The hair colour of one of these ladies seemed too irresistible a complement not to sneak a shot.

One step further for the tulips of the cherry tree avenue

and further loveliness of beech leafing against the bluebells.

There was an unexpected paeonian bonus just before we left, actually near the toilets on the north side. This looks like a peony, but its designation is Solanum jasmanoades,

while its equally big and blowsy neighbour is Paeonia suffruticosa.

Abundant peonies by now available to adorn the home. This bunch has a version of our good friend Marcelle Hanselaar's 'White Collar Man' behind it.

The yard at last began to thrive. The patio quince put forth flowers

and even the sporadic bee population seemed to be on the increase, here on the latest addition to the geranium family out back,

while I'd almost forgotten about the two irises under the weeping mulberry tree, but parted the leaves and found them thriving

Iris time, too, in the formal gardens of Hyde Park - here's one gorgeous speciment fully open

and another budding

while a ubiquitous parakeet makes for interesting colour co-ordination in a nearby tree.

I'm so glad our good friend Deborah joined me on the opening of the Glyndebourne season (20 May), because she's an orchid expert and immediately, very excitedly, identified a batch of Common Twayblades (Neottia ovata) which I would have overlooked by the edge of the lake.

Other, more familiar emergents were the over 100 year-old wisteria in Fulham Palace's Walled Garden

and the dark colombines in our bedroom windowbox.

On 28 May, downpours threatened, so we weathered it at Cally's before setting out to a nearer location, Chiswick House Gardens. But I'd never been in the newly-restored Walled Garden there, so there were plenty of treats here: the white wisteria on the outside wall,

rows of colourful planting on one side of the main avenue, irises abundant,

Phacelia tanacetifolia, much loved by bees and abundant,

ditto a lupin (mine in the back yard failed this year - unless I buy them advanced in growth, the snails get them).

Waterfowl life on the lake was much as usual, including the coots who nest in the same places every year, but this time there was a small addition, much treasured, I guess, because few of the chicks that hatch survive - too often the herons get them,

Late May seems prime time for the young 'uns. These kid grebes in Battersea Park were enchanting

and nearby, close to a swan's nest which had been deserted - one fellow visitor was concerned, but as soon as she'd gone, another assured me that the brood had hatched and swum off with mum and dad - another resourceful moorhen was raising young.

By the Serpentine on 30 May there was more avian family action. Greylag parents steered their broad successfully through the pedestrians to the water

while a mother swan gave her two cygnets the cue to rest

before the father appeared to accompany them on the Serpentine.

1 June reminded us of the first days when Kew reopened to the public the previous year (pictured at the end of this 2020 chronicle), and this day was just as glorious. Peonies back then were nearly at an end, but everything was a couple of weeks behind last June, so the Duke's Garden was still yielding wonders. If anything, the beds were now even more spectacular, with irises and lupins adding to the colour-layers.

Abundant in the rock garden were Mediterranean tulips and Californian poppies

along with Ochagavia elegans.

Bees love the giant echiums in flower.

Peak season on the other side of the wall - more bee action on abundant 'Scarlet O'Hara'

and more serried ranks of irises.

Nearby was a loner, not one I'd seen before - 'Tol long'.

At last we were readmitted to the water lily house, where the Amazonicas were doing their stuff. Having just watched how brutal they can be in shutting out the light from other plants fighting for life in the excellent Green Planet, it's as well there are experts to hand to make sure the lilies also thrive.

Resident peacock of the Japanese garden (which Cal had got to display by some embarrassing but effective singing several weeks earlier) offsetting azaleas,

colourful fungus on a tree stump (don't ask me what),

and a bee on a flower (Deborah has identified it as Camassia Leichtlinii alba) in a white and green meadow near the oak zone.

First visit of the season to Garsington's home on the Wormsley Estate, with the obligatory visit to the glorious walled garden (walkable, and we've wandered back, but they insist you take the coach from the cricket pavilion).

Not entirely characteristic sightings back at the Wetlands Centre on 8 June - a moth which doesn't appear in my Collins guide, and yet I saw it in several different locations around this time,

 orchids (Southern Marsh?) by one of the smaller ponds

ubiqtuitous (but always cheering) Lapwing on one of the flowered islets

and frilly giant poppies in abundance

Last year, the English Garden in Battersea Park was a lavish joy, having been rather unattended in 2020, though lilies on the pond are always profuse.

Roses in abundance, too, this flower with a sleeping bee inside.

The final visit to Kew in this batch, on 11 June, included J and Maxine Braham to celebrate the half-year of Fridays along with us. Here they are in the Waterlily House

A fresh batch of flowering

and water droplets on a lotus leaf.

Again we were able to compare with this time the previous year - when J and I visited in 2020 on the day after reopening, 2 June, the tulip trees were in bloom. This was the first Friday when we saw the flowers, so roughly 10 days behind.

Likewise only white peonies were still in flower back in early June 2020; now most of the rest were still thriving

though I remember the lupins near the peony garden from before,

Our white peony finalists were all doing well in the Duke's Garden

though the star attraction here was the humming of innumerable bees among the ?Salvia nemorosa? Only a film does justice to this abundance, but these stills must suffice.

Star unknown (to me) of this visit was a Japanese Snowbell tree (Styrax japonica), spectacular in full flower.

Second visit of the season to Glyndebourne was on my birthday; the concert conducted by Robin Ticciati was a stunner - first Mahler symphony (Four) I'd heard live in at least a year and a half - and so was the day. More orchids were to be found in the meadows and by the lake, where the last of the twayblades could still be found if you looked hard enough.

Meanwhile the formal beds were thriving with irises, poppies, lupins, foxgloves and a very handsome robinia (opposite where we dined in the interval, at table 59, a significant number for the day).

Heading towards the longest day of the year, we still had the sunset to enjoy after the symphony's childlike view of heaven.

The weather wasn't quite so clement on my one visit last year to Grange Park, but a circuit around the fields revealed an unusual visitor - a black bee? Certainly I've not seen one like this before.

Meanwhile, the goldfinches continued their feeding down in the back yard (view from bedroom window)

and even had some babies (if I make this out aright, there are two with their mother).

I even got to see the goldfinches moult in late summer, but there's been no sign of them for months. But the days are getting longer, the sun came out halfway through the week and nature is slowly coming back to fuller life.