Dispatches From the South: The Color Purple

It’s Bluebell season here in the southeast, and for those of you who have never had the opportunity to stroll through a bluebell wood, all I can say is you are missing one of the prettiest sights on God’s green earth.

The Bluebell is a woodland plant that flowers during the spring, squeezing into a brief slice of time when the balance of nature is tipped fully in its favour. Such as now when the days are long and sunny, the weather warm and the tree leaves are still in the flush of youth, allowing a dappling of sunshine to cover the forest floors. A week ago, there were none to be seen, but now as I ride through the Sussex countryside the verges of the lanes flash by in a haze of indigo.

Their appeal isn’t simply that they are beautiful, but also because they are so ephemeral. Two weeks, maybe three, and they will be gone, so now is the time to hit one of the many local gardens join in the springtime ritual know as Bluebell week.

This was something entirely new to me when I first arrived here. Not just the Bluebells, which I had never seen before, but equally the idea of visiting a garden. Perhaps this was due to the unfortunate lack of manor houses and their accompanying estates in the area I grew up in or just the general American notion that an interest in shrubbery was unseemly in a man. Here, however, gardening is a national mania and gardens, both large and small, abound. Near where my wife and I live there are a fair number—thanks in no small part to the efforts of the National Trust—and we are spoiled for choice when it comes to viewing organized nature.

Even without resorting to a Google search, I can name six prominent gardens within an hour drive (this is to demonstrate the number and prominence of English gardens, not the fact that I can’t be arsed to do any research).

Leonardslee and High Beeches are, literally, just down the road from us and are reputed to be some of the best places for Bluebell sighting. Leonardslee is a 200-acre estate encompassing seven lakes and a deep, wooded valley, and High Beeches, which used to be part of the same estate, is a smaller, though no less beautiful, garden. These are unusual in that they are not National Trust properties, which means we have to pay see them (as National Trust members, we have free admission to all National Trust properties). Hence, I have to take my wife’s word that Leonardslee is very nice, and I have only been to High Beeches once, but I do remember it as an amazing sight.

Leonardslee, by the way, is for sale, if you happen to have a few million quid lying around that isn’t already earmarked for insurance premiums or your children’s college fund.

Nymans is just a bit further down the road and is a National Trust property. The manor house on this property is a ruin, but it adds an air of romance to the place, even if it wreaks havoc on the property values. Like most of the gardens, it is open year round and a visit during any season will reveal its own special wonders. It’s a smaller garden, by comparison, but the woodlands and views are spectacular. It’s also worth noting that, even though it falls short of the 200 acres enjoyed by Leonardslee, it was, in its day, someone’s back yard. That always makes it seem a little bit bigger to me.

Sheffield Park weighs in at just 120 acres, but this doesn’t count the land the manor house is situated on. The house, acquired by the 1st Lord Sheffield in 1775, is still standing and has recently been converted to an apartment building. Though not the kind I could afford to live in.

After signing the deed, Lord Sheffield commissioned ‘Capability’ Brown to landscape the grounds. He was, as you might imagine, very capable. Although I have never been to Sheffield during bluebell week, it is without question the most aesthetically pleasing of all the gardens I have visited. In the autumn, it is nothing short of spectacular.

Sheffield Park in autumn.

West Dean isn’t really a landscaped garden, it’s a 90-acre manor house-turned arts and agriculture college with small (meaning it could only hold a few football fields) highly maintained garden featuring artistically arranged flowers, fruits and vegetables. I include it because, for its size, it is quite a lovely place, and in the autumn they host the Chili Fest, which is an event we never miss.

But by far our favourite garden is Wakehurst Place. This is a comfortable 40-minute ride into East Sussex and its 180 acres of gardens and woodlands is part of the Royal Botanical Gardens, Kew. It is also home to the Millennium Seed Bank, an £80m international conservation project with an interactive exhibition where you can “see scientists at work and discover how Kew is helping to safeguard the world’s most endangered plants.” Perhaps unsurprisingly, looking at seeds through plate glass and watching scientists do scientific things is about as exciting as, well, watching seeds through plate glass and watching scientists do scientific things. I guess you really need to like seed. A lot.

But the gardens are wonderful and we go there every few weeks to watch the change in seasons. And this week, we’ll go to see the Bluebells.

Bluebells at Wakehurst Place. The photo does not do them justice.

It may interest you to know (or, if not interest you, at least keep you out of jail) that the Bluebell is a protected species. You are not allowed to dig them up, even on your own land. So if you do come to visit and are captivated by this fetching flower, don’t be tempted to try to take any home.