Meconopsis betonicifolia

Last Sunday, I was in the garden and pointed something out to Tom. “Just look at that!” I said with some excitement, “do you know what it is?” He examined it carefully, scratched his head, and turned back to me. “Is it a hairy gonad?” “No,” I told him (being used to such remarks) “it’s a blue poppy.”

When we first moved to Scotland more than twenty years ago, Tom and I visited the Botanic Gardens in Edinburgh, where (never having seen such a thing before) I was utterly amazed by a bank of beautiful blue poppies. These delicate, papery flowers were a most extraordinary colour: a luminous pale blue, which, when you looked at the petals closely under sunlight, were also shot through with pale, iridescent pink. Bobbing about in the breeze en masse they lit up a shady area with a gorgeous hazy wash of colour. It was like nothing I’d ever seen.

I went away and learned about the provenance of meconopsis in Burma, Tibet, and Arunachal Pradesh, and read about the plant’s decline. Generations of western collection (much of it to supply the gardens of wealthy Scottish estates), as well as traditional use in Eastern medicine, contributed to dramatic population decline in previous centuries. These poppies are now threatened by the effects of our changing climate, climbing to higher alpine meadows to escape the heat in ever diminishing numbers. Scotland’s cool, damp climate suits these plants, and they still thrive here, as the estate collections which once hastened depredation now, in the hands of the National Trust and other bodies, contribute to species preservation.

Over the years, l have enjoyed several other gorgeous meconopsis displays in Scottish gardens, including at Crarae in 2010, the first summer following my stroke. I often find gardens to be very healing spaces, and this was particularly the case during that particular garden visit, as I wandered around Crarae’s well-designed footpaths without my elbow crutch. With the help of steps and hand-rails, I found, for the first time, that I was actually able to ascend hills once more, and then, with care, descend them. After the worst few months in my life, in that garden, I was able to enjoy just being in the great outdoors again meandering among beautiful, colourful plants and flowers – including meconopsis.

Could I perhaps grow these beautiful blue blooms myself? Meconopsis are notoriously tricky to cultivate, and I did not manage to do so in Edinburgh, nor in our last garden, which was very wind-exposed. But I thought I might have another go here, in the mill garden with its sandy, slightly acidic soil and shelter. Early last spring, I bought three tiny plugs of meconopsis betonicifolia from a reputable nursery, and popped them into three different places in the garden – selecting spots which, I felt, would give the plants their choice of the best location. Last summer, I watered and fed the plants regularly with feed I’d made from chicken manure and my own compost. The plugs grew a little, and then died back. In the Autumn, I mulched the ground with fine-grade bark, leaf mould and compost and, this spring, just one of the three plants really began to grow. The spot it chose is north-facing: beneath a large deciduous tree (a sycamore), in front of a rhododendron (which protects it from the wind), with further wind shelter provided by a low, stone wall. I continued to mulch and feed and water the meconopsis (which has been particularly important this dry spring), and then staked it (when it threatened to succumb to the strong northerly winds we had a few weeks ago)

A couple of weeks ago it became clear that my efforts had paid off and my meconopsis betonicifolia was going to flower. Hurrah!

A momentous occasion in the garden! Tom set up a tripod to document it. Just look at this beautiful bud!

The last few days have been very hot, and very sunny. I noticed that the meconopsis looked its happiest during the cool, damp early mornings, and misted it occasionally (in an attempt to replicate the damp conditions in which it thrives on Himalayan slopes).

At dawn on Wednesday, I felt sure the meconopsis was about to flower. I spent the morning in my office with KC (who was visiting), talking about charts and numbers. Tom kept going out to check the tripod, and actually managed to be there at the exact moment when the poppy, in a light breath of wind, finally cast off its hairy bud! He shouted up to us, and we dashed outside to admire it.

These four shots were taken at two-and-a-half-minute intervals

Behold, meconopsis betonicifolia!

The petals spent their first day in this surprised, rather crumpled state, as they became used to the fresh air . . .

. . and then gradually began to open . . .

Tom captured the poppy’s first visitor – a pollen-laden bumblebee. . . .

. . . and the expansion of the petals into an increasingly gorgeous bloom . . .

. . . welcoming other pollinators.

It really is a truly beautiful flower!

. . . whose delicate, unusual, pale-blue hue is genuinely striking!

The plant looks very healthy (despite the current curious May heat), and has several other buds that will hopefully, in coming weeks, come into flower too.

This is definitely a case of right plant, right place, together with a little understanding of the kinds of conditions that make this poppy want to thrive (organic matter, wind protection, cool, damp air).

But I still can’t quite believe I’ve managed to grow meconopsis betonicifolia!

I have my vermiculite at the ready, and intend to propagate this one from seed.