The Endsleigh Gardener
Summer 2026

Ben Ruscombe-King
The Endsleigh Gardener

What a summer we are having! Endless blue skies and sunshine stretching now for several months, and whilst this does pose serious dilemmas from a horticultural point of view, I am determined to revel in this very un-British weather. So far this summer has been one long exotic foreign holiday without leaving the country. At Endsleigh we are now entering unchartered territory: the striped green lawns have gone, replaced by sunbaked savanna; the Tamar, which was only months ago a raging torrent, is reduced to a gently meandering stream; trees jettison their leaves in an effort to conserve water; and the borders are certainly looking somewhat parched, with many flowers having lived fast and died young.

The garden has taken on a very different feel in the constant heat, it is a place to observe from the shade rather than enthusiastically explore, the grottoes and follies offer respite from sun rather than adventure and the rose arch and yew walk provide shady colonnades from which to peer out, blinking, at the sun-bleached scene. The water, intended by Repton to add drama to the scene, has a more soothing effect now that the flow has lessened and the sound is reminiscent of the paradise gardens of the middle east: cooling, calming and captivating.

In the dell the water is still flowing, albeit at a somewhat reduced rate, and we are constantly tinkering and re-routing it to keep all the waterfalls, streams and cascades flowing as intended. Some of the springs have now dried up but many are still running and so the dell retains some of its verdancy. Bistorta amplexicaulis, Hostas, Telekia speciosa, Sanguisorba canadensis, Lythrum salicaria and Lobelia speciosa battle for the still boggy ground and offer floral display to captivate humans and insects alike, though some of our epiphytic ferns and mosses are starting to struggle. In the various pools and ponds Pontaderia push forth their blue flower spikes, Zantadeschia add a tropical feel with their arrow shaped leaves and papyrus, an experimental addition this summer, are thriving in the heat, believing themselves basking in the shallows of the Nile delta. Water lilies provide landing pads for the dragonflies, whilst water boatmen row busily hither and thither on errands unknown and – if one stands motionless for long enough – newts may be glimpsed breaking from the cover of the pond weed. Our midsummer strimming of the banks is now paying dividends as the ferns bounce back and offer much needed fresh greenery and the bottom of the valley is filled once again with the huge, primordial umbrella leaves of the Gunnera offering shady green tunnels from which to explore.

Everything has been flowering much earlier than expected this year: the roses usually at their peak in late June were already in flower in April, though this has had the dividend that many are now starting to flower again despite not normally being repeat flowerers.

In the borders many flowers encouraged by the non-stop sunshine have fulfilled their purpose, straw coloured seed heads abound but there is still plenty of colour from Heleniums, Eutrochiums, Echinops, Verbena, Salvia et al. Geraniums are enthusiastically offering up a second flush and sunlovers such as Alstromeria are having a field day. Some of the later flowering plants are already in full throw, with Ceratostigma, Eryngium, Acanthus and Berkheya currently offering an arresting if prickly combination.

The parterre this year has taken inspiration from traditional Victorian bedding schemes, using exotic palms, bananas, and colocasias dotted amongst dark purple salvias. The idea was for a rich and sumptuous effect, the endless heat has meant it is not quite as sumptuous as envisaged, however the poor salvias have battled on regardless and are still flowering valiantly. The loggia backing the parterre has really come into its own this year offering, as it does, the perfect space to gaze out over the sweltering valley from the shade, cool drink in hand, fountain splashing and to think to oneself ‘what’s the hurry?’. Finally I am beginning to overcome my protestant work ethic and understand the concept of a siesta (don’t tell the boss), pass the sangria!