Visitor attraction

A week or so ago, back to Wisley to see what was going on there, something less than a month since our last visit, noticed at reference 1. And, following traditional tea and cake from the cafeteria just outside the entrance, during which we had amusement provided by a small team of specialist knotweed eradicators, the visit proper did indeed start with the visitor attraction side of the gardens, in the form of a floral advertisement for the Thursday Murder Club, powered by Netflix. We learned later that collectible clues were dotted about the gardens.

We are not Netflix subscribers, but this morning Bing tells me that it is Richard Osman who is responsible, rather than Agatha Christie - an author which BH takes in but I have to get around to, having failed to move on from Simenon. The Netflix drama in question is to be found at reference 2.

Also this morning, I wondered whether I ought to have asked the knotweed people whether they stooped to bamboo, as noticed at reference 4. Perhaps the different groups of surveyors serving the various suburbs of south west London all have their own invasive roots' fashions, fads and specialities. All comes of their attending the same chapter of their professional organisation, whatever that might be. Oddfellows? The Chamber of Commerce?

This was supplemented by a marquee under construction, against an upcoming flower show or some such. We have never been to a flower show at Wisley, but I did wonder this morning who exhibited at such a thing. Presumably some way away from the flower show you might have got in the olden days, in a village hall, amid torrid rivalries among the competitors for the Champion Onion Cup or perhaps, even, the Dahlia Challenge Cup, this last presented by one Oliver Blenkins in 1924, in the heyday of such shows. Was it like the flower show at Hampton Court, in some large part a vehicle for advertising the sale of gardening durables like furniture and lawnmower? Not to mention garden rooms.

Perhaps the garden room noticed at reference 3. Concerning which, I might say that the intrusion across the building line, more or less up to the inner grass strip, has been much softened by the installation of a wooden fence. Installation which will probably make the builders curse a bit as it looks to be only a foot or so away from the as yet unfinished walls. Perhaps the people concerned were concerned to head off adverse comment.

The first exhibit of our day was the showy flowers and mottled leaves snapped above, a plant which we had not noticed before, probably because the showy flowers had not appeared.

We did find a ticket, but this morning Google Images tells me 'The plant shown in the image is a type of Hylotelephium, commonly known as Sedum or Stonecrop, possibly a cultivar like 'Matrona' or 'Brilliant''. Stonecrop rings a vague bell and may well have been what the ticket or BH offered at the time. And one of the images from Google, from RHS, says 'Hylotelephium telephium (Atropurpureum Group) 'Purple Emperor'', which looks about right. While I had thought that sedum was a ground cover plant. Wikipedia tells me at reference 5 that there are more than 500 of them, and Copilot tells me that some of them make very good ground cover, so maybe I am right too.

Another showy flower. Google Images reminds me that it is a hydrangea. Seeing them out in the sun reminds us that at Ventnor Botanic Gardens they are grown in the shade, under trees, where they seem to do very well too. Wikipedia say that most of them come from the Far East and that some of them climb up trees, but does not say anything about growing under trees. But it does say that 'The flowers of many hydrangeas act as natural pH indicators, producing blue flowers when the soil is acidic and pink ones when the soil is alkaline'. I believe that some gardeners pride themselves on blue, so perhaps they pour something or other acidic into the ground around.

An upper class wooden bench, looking up the hill between the big herbaceous borders, towards the decapitated horse's head, not intrusive at this distance.

The sky had been a bit threatening, and we had to take shelter under a handy, spreading cypress tree at one point. Not as effective as I had thought, with quite a few drips getting through. But better than being out in the open for all that.

The tree itself. The Lawson's cypress, previously noticed at reference 1.

Pushing on, another spreading tree. Google Images struggles a bit with both this image and a zoom onto the leaves right, although there is talk of the Japanese tree lilac, which looks possible. No ticket visible in this snap, so must take another look next time we are there.

Did rather better with these curious pear-like fruits, for which the ticket said 'Pyrus elaeagnifolia, variety kotschyana, from Turkey. One supposes that 'pyrus' is Latin for pear. 

Wikipedia tells me at reference 6 that it is indeed a wild pear, named for the similarity of its leaves to the oleaster. Drought resistant, which perhaps why it was chosen for this particular spot. Rather different to the oleasters we get here at Epsom, as noticed, for example, at reference 7.

On to the hilltop facility, where we came across this large & handsome function room, before we got to the library. We wondered whether they were into weddings, but did not come across the right sort of trusty to ask.

Returned my ivy books to the library, not much the wiser, although I had read about some giant ivies growing on sea cliffs in Norway. Oddly, neither Bing nor Google knows anything about them this morning, although Google's AI assistant does allow that they do grow on sea cliffs from Norway down to Portugal.

I also chanced across a book about the natural history of trees, at reference 8, which has been rather more informative about the complexities of leaf size. Further report about that in due course. And an old copy of an Ancient Greek dictionary, a smaller version of that which the head of Latin at my secondary school used to flourish on occasion.

According to Wikipedia:

'... In 1889, an intermediate edition of the lexicon, An Intermediate Greek–English Lexicon, was prepared on the basis of the seventh edition (1883) of LSJ. In comparison to the smaller abridgement, this "Middle Liddell" contains more entries covering the essential vocabulary of most commonly read Ancient Greek literature, adds citations of the authors to illustrate the history of Greek usage (without identifying the passages), and provides more help with irregular forms...'.

so perhaps it was that one, all the way from 1890. Or perhaps the one I remember had fancier (if ancient) binding and so looked bigger? Perhaps it helped with taxonomy.

Took a light lunch in the cafeteria next to the library, in my case a serviceable tuna baguette plus some rather good lentils. A change from the place near the big glass house that we have been using of late, with the only down side being that, for some reason, it was a good deal busier.

After lunch, I wondered about the nearby display of dried grains, pulses and such like. Do they get infested with small livestock, in the way that ours do if we keep them for too long? BH thought not, their being in sealed jars, but I was not so sure. Again, no trusty on hand to ask.

A showy if solitary magnolia outside, on which the telephone did a pretty good job. I decided that it was not the same as the unusual magnolia grown by my father in his front garden, a small magnolia tree which occasionally produced a very large flower at the very top. I think he went so far as to present a mature seed to the Botanic Garden at Cambridge. From where I associate to Cherry-Garrard turning up at the Natural History Museum in London with some expensively and painfully collected penguin eggs. As I recall, important for some forgotten controversy about the evolution of webbed feet.

Another tree with big leaves, this one a Paulownia tomentosa from the USA.

Google Images did pretty well, even better when I gave him a clue. I enjoyed the factlet at the end - but perhaps I ought to have checked it at the reference provided.

On the way out we took in some good dahlias, with the strong colours meaning that some snapped better than others. Mixed colours seem to work best.

And my favourite aloes, albeit still on the small side. They used to have some very good ones in the dry part of the big glasshouse and we must go back to see if they are still there. Hampton Court Palace has them too.

And a last look at the splendid lily ponds before we caught our car home. Another good day, and a pretty good day for Google Images too.

PS 1: presently on the Simenon of reference 10.

PS 2: regarding heyday, Google tells me that:

The word "heyday" originated in the early 1500s as an interjection, possibly an alteration of "heyda," which expressed cheerfulness or surprise, similar to "hurrah". It is unrelated to hay or day, though the spelling was later changed from "heyda" to "heyday" around the late 1500s to the late 1700s due to the similarity of the second syllable to the word "day". This shift in spelling influenced the development of the familiar noun sense of "heyday" meaning the time of greatest vigor or success. 

Which more or less agrees with the more nuanced version of same which appears in OED. 

PS 3: Tuesday morning: just come across a nice way saying bunking off school or something of that sort, in the story at reference 10: 'faire l’école buissonnière'.

References

Reference 1: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2025/08/hibiscus-day.html.

Reference 2: https://www.netflix.com/tudum/articles/thursday-murder-club-cast-release-date-plot.

Reference 3: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2025/08/trolleys-945-946-and-947.html.

Reference 4: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2025/08/trolleys-930-and-931.html.

Reference 5: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sedum.

Reference 6: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pyrus_elaeagrifolia.

Reference 7: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2022/05/oleaster-down.html.

Reference 8: Trees: Their natural history - Peter A. Thomas - 2014.

Reference 9: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Greek%E2%80%93English_Lexicon.

Reference 10: Maigret et le Voleur paresseux - Simenon - 1961. Collected works, volume XXII. A late story, with Maigret fretting about all the young, university trained suits invading his world. All men though, not like in the detective dramas we get on television now.