I’ve been clipping topiary morning, noon and night. I don’t mind at all – in fact, I love it.
I love the smell of the first cut. Every plant smells different when it is clipped. Yew smells sweet, box smells at once sharp and musky and lonicera smells…..planty.
I love the artistry and the chance to express myself in a way that is different entirely to any other sculptural practice or horticultural practice (not that I’ve ever tried bonsai ~ I’m not sure I fancy bonsai ~ it seems a little odd).
I love dangling precariously, higher than the ladder will go – one foot on the highest rung, the other kicked behind me in some strange clumpy-booted ballet move.
I love standing back and trying to be objective about the ‘cutting edge’ (ha ha, groan) decisions I have made with my shears.
…….and I love my shears.
They are new, they are precious and they are treated like royalty……although I am not sure that the Queen is sprayed liberally with WD40 before being put to bed……hang on, have I just stumbled upon her secret?
I have just finished my own home topiary. Mature lonicera nitida hedges have been seriously attacked.
I couldn’t make up my mind about the ultimate, finished look (‘finished’ will probably be in at least 3 years) so the 3 sections of hedge will have 3 different aesthetics.
The 1st hedge is formal. A hint of a buttress, smoothly clipped, straight sides and a level top crowned with (what will eventually be) pom poms…..or snails or curled up cats or Axl Rose in bust form…..
The 2nd hedge has a quirkier (for want of a better word) concept. I want it to look like a row of terraced houses but each house has a different architectural design. I want the end result to look a little like Diagon Alley…..and if you don’t know of the alley to which I refer…..poor, poor you.
The 3rd hedge lends itself nicely to cloud hedging. – I hope that in a couple of years it will look billowing and tranquil not like I just attacked it with careless abandon.
I have told my husband that if any of the 3 hedges look awful in a year I will change them.
And therein lies the beauty of topiary – you can change it. It is like living play dough.