Mad about Maples

In between torrential downpours last week I managed to dash round a rather soggy Hatfield to enjoy the garden in spring. In a lovely woodland glade, full of cowslips and bluebells pushing up through long grass, were a number of Acer palmatum, their new leaves positively bursting with freshness.

I adore Acers. They have to be among the most elegant of trees, and I love the way their fine foliage quakes in the breeze, and the dappled shade they cast beneath their delicate crowns (forgive me for going all poetic). 

In our otherwise unremarkable front garden (ahem, still working on that), is another one, this time a deep moody burgundy.  This one I suspect is some version of Acer palmatum var. dissectum, judging by the finely divided leaves. The picture doesn't really do it justice - the colour seems rather flat, when in reality it is bright and glowing, particularly in the sunshine.  A lot of garden designers find purple-leaved plants difficult to place in a garden, and it is true that they do not always mix well with an otherwise harmonious palette of greens. The Acer, however, sits very happily with the other plants around it - limey Euphorbias, sweet little forget-me-nots (Myosotis, if you want the official name), and Centranthus ruber (the pinky-red or white valerian you see growing out of every nook and cranny in the countryside). I think the texture is important here, as it gives the colour a very multi-dimensional look (just like all those adverts for hair dye are always going on about).

Acers are often thought of as excellent trees for autumn foliage displays, and I'm certainly not going to argue with that (maples play a starring role in the famous colours of New England in the fall). But they more than earn their place in the garden earlier on in the year and deserve to be much admired. As well as in woodland glades at stately homes, they are also perfect for small gardens and even containers, so there's really no excuse not to add one to your life.