Gardening in the winter

There is something immensely pleasurable and satisfying about doing garden work in December. Probably because you can't do it every day as it's dependent on what is happening weather-wise, and even on a good-weather day there are few hours in which to do it - and it becomes a valued treat and is never a chore. 

Today after two days of snow and rain the garden was moist, muddy, but good to work in; so I dug a hole, then evicted a Mahonia with some attendant bulbs from one of last year's 'winter pots' and re-homed it at the back of the garden, as planned a year ago, cutting back the climbers in that area; the whiles being scolded by a blackbird who considered that whole area, probably rightly, hers. Then, I planted the last of this year's new bulbs into various areas, particularly the little 'woodland' bit that I've been developing this year. These were mostly wild hyacinths ('bluebells' if you're English) and some daffodils which promise to be very fine when they bloom in the spring. Then, a few remaining daffodil bulbs went into a pot, and I'll see in the spring where they might go into the ground. Finally, a little bit of pruning of a hydrangea, to prevent wind-rock, and a little more on roses...

I got a bit muddy, and enjoyed this just as much as when I was a child, a long time ago, digging holes in the garden of my parents' house!

My garden has a strange shape, because of the way that the 'new build' area, bordering on woodland, was developed in the 1990s. As a result, it's bigger than the standard 'new build' patch of ground, and so has what I think of as a 'secret' area, through an arch that I put in several years ago with the area through the archway not visible from the house. The arch has clematis and honeysuckle growing over it, or at least they're meant to grow over it although the honeysuckle has its own way of growing everywhere else! Bluetits and coal tits enjoy this secret area, and were flying into its trees and from there to the bird feeders in the 'main' part, during all the time I was working there.

After sunset, I walked around with a cup of coffee, looking at the plants which are still growing, still flowering, and those which give their winter flowers and scents. The Viburnum bodnantense scents the pathway through the garden leading to that secret area. Next year's buds are very visible on shrubs and trees. As the twilight deepens - it's pretty dark as I write this - I am rejoicing in my winter garden.

Walking the old railway line

The path, nearing the crossing with the North Dronley road.

Part of the route of the Dundee to Newtyle railway... 

    has been turned into a path for walkers, cyclists and horse-riders, and this is where I went walking this morning. 

The Old Meigle Rail Path runs from Rosemill to North Dronley (and there’s a further path on to Dronley Woods), and I joined it at a small carpark, part-way along the path, reached from the Dronley Road going north from Birkhill. From there, I walked towards North Dronley, though only as far as to where the path crosses the North Dronley road as the skies were darkinging, rain was threatening, and indeed it was a rather wet woman who returned to the carpark. But it’s a walk I’ll do again, going further next time; a walk through farmed fields, along a path lined with wildflowers, small shrubs and trees, hearing the sounds of summer, yellowhammers, blackbirds, blackcaps and other songsters and this day of Solstice.

(Technically, the moment of solstice was yesterday at 22.55; so last night was the ‘shortest night’ and both yesterday and today I'll think of as jointly the ‘longest days’. In point of fact it will be several days before the day becomes measurably or noticeably shorter… )

However: about half-way along my eye was caught by a particular yellow flower which was only vaguely familiar, and to the phone came out of my pocket. Next time, I’ll take more photos from the outset. The carpark itself had, unfortunately, some litter - why do people make litter in these places? - but from just a few yards along the path there was no more. I’ll put on field boots next time, though, rather than today’s walking sandals, as there’s need to avoid what’s left by the horses that clearly are ridden this way quite often. My sandals had to do quite a bit of side-stepping.

I had the path almost to myself today, though - there was one runner, and on the way back two cyclists, all of whom just kept going so that it was I who had to step into the grass at the side of the path - another reason for boots next time! They did, however, say ‘thank you’.

So, photos, starting with the plant which first caught my eye, and ending with a view of the path and a little piece of the birdsong.

John-(or Jack)-go-to-bed-at-noon, aka Goatsbeard,

 Meadow Salsify, and a few other things.

 I'm sure there must be a local Angus name for it...

Botanical name is Tragopogon pratensis.

Another image of the same flower.

Prickly Sow Thistle, Sonchus asper.

One which I do have to haul out of the garden,
though it’s really impossible to control it fully: Aegopodium podagraria.

Ox-eye daisies.

Common Hogweed, aka Cow Parsnip, with more Sow-thistle

 (and a few other things). Please don't ever confuse 

Common Hogweed (Heracleum sphondylium) 

with its much bigger nasty cousin!

At the entrance to a field... quite an assortment of things here,
including a Knapweed (not yet flowering), more Hogweed,
 Clover, grasses and the Trefoil.
(At least it looks like Birdsfoot Trefoil but I didn't look at the leaves,
and these are not clear enough in the photo. Could be Meadow Vetchling.)

And finally for the wildflowers, Nipplewort, Lapsana communis.
This seeds itself freely around, but it's not so often I see the flowers
as I spend a good bit of 'weeding' time hauling it from the
 garden. On a wildflower path, though, is where it belongs.

As I walked on, the most wonderful birdsong rose from the trees on the left of the path - the trees you can see in that first image at the top of the page. So here is a little of it:

On the way home, I picked up a loaf of bread and some sausages at Grewar’s Farm Shop. Lunch was good!

George Kinloch, and his Dundee statue

Here in Dundee we have a problem. It relates to George Kinloch of Kinloch, known as ‘the Radical Laird’, reformer and briefly the first MP for Dundee. 

He was first politically involved with issues of the Dundee harbour, around 1814, though he may have expressed reformer sentiments from at least 1808. From there, he seems to have become increasingly political, with particular attention always to Dundee and to the developments of the mill-workers there, until his death in 1833.

He’s known for getting himself arraigned on a ‘sedition’ case - because he spoke at demonstrations, particularly one after the Peterloo debacle, and supported universal (i.e. at that time meaning male) suffrage. He escaped the so-called ‘justice’ which would have sent him to Botany Bay, taking refuge in France before he was enabled to return to Britain (only to hear of the death of one of his daughters). 

But eventually, after campaigns started to change the ways in which, well, some people thought about other people, he became elected in 1833, after the first Reform Act, as MP for the newly-formed constituency of Dundee, defeating his (also Whig) rival. His speech for his Dundee electors specified his opposition and hatred of slavery.  In 1872, long after his death and after long years of debate and opposition, a statue was erected to him in Albert Square, beside the Public Library, aka Albert Institute.

So, what’s the problem?  It lies in the family’s history: his father’s brother, John Kinloch, had become an owner of a plantation in Jamaica. Then John died, without a ‘legitimate’ heir of his body, though with several (four, I think) children of ‘mixed race’. So John’s heir was his brother, George Oliphant Kinloch, who arranged (remotely, from Scotland) for schooling for the children, and would be receiving reports from Jamaica about the plantation and its earnings. He signed at least one manumission document, but I don’t have any evidence for the context of this.  And then George Oliphant Kinloch also died. So what happened to the estate?

Well, it would be ‘in trust’ for the heir of George Oliphant Kinloch, whose first son was named John - and that son died in 1789: so George, the aforesaid reformer, second son and still a minor, became the ‘owner’ in name of the estate (and of course also of the Scottish estate of Kinloch, bought by his father from a cousin earlier, his father having sold another small Scottish estate in order to buy it… this is complicated…). Young George spent some time in France, in the early 1790s, and so learnt about the early, and idealistic, years of the French Revolution and the reasons for this. When he came of age (1796) and started to deal with the accounts for that Jamaican plantation, what did he think? We don’t know. He didn’t leave a memoir, and while there are some letters from him and to him, these date from a later time.

What we do know is that by 1804 the Jamaican estate, ‘Grange’,  had been sold, apparently to the person who had been in correspondence with George Oliphant Kinloch earlier.

So. Yes, George Kinloch of Kinloch, Scottish reformer, was for a few years in his 20s an owner of a Jamaican plantation worked by slaves. He may have ‘profited’ by the sale of the plantation. What he thought of it, we don’t know. What we do know is that at the time of his election as the first MP for Dundee, he professed a hatred of all slavery, and in particular of ‘negro slavery’; his phrasing of that time, not mine!

Please do not deface his statue!