I managed to lose all my dahlias this year by foolishly putting the tubers up in the loft rather than in the, generally recommended, boxes of compost in the garage. It was far too dry up there, and when I came to plant them out in May I found that instead of tubers all I had left was a shrivelled heap of dust. This was a great setback. I am very fond of dahlias since I think that they look great at this time of the year when everything else is beginning to fade. I have always liked them, even during the period when they were considered vulgar by all the people trying to emulate Sissinghurst white borders and muted borders full of shades of lilac and pink.
Undaunted by this catastrophe, and too mean to buy growing plants at the garden centre, I sent off for a collection of tubers from a grower, although I was aware that it was a little late. All went well until recently when a few finally started to flower and I discovered that instead of the claret and purples that I had ordered a fair few have turned out to be an unloveable shade of tomato scarlet. I have resisted the temptation to pull them out however, but am only slightly cheered when people exclaim that they are so bright that they can see them from the road which is about fifty yards away.
It was therefore cheering last week to visit Great Dixter, the late Christopher Lloyd’s fantastic garden in Sussex. There is no worry about bright colours here! Although quite a long way it really is worth the trip, and at this time of year a real treat for dahlia lovers.
Some of the vistas are illustrated above and below.
