The woodland that lies upstream from the property has been a favourite place to explore. Its character defined by the steep banks either side which roll down to the water’s edge, a peaceful space that on closer inspection is alive and full of intrigue.  

It was on that first visit that we stumbled across a wild Malus sylvestris. Although its greyish brown flecked bark wasn’t showy, its irregular shape and wide spreading canopy sat unassumingly, gnarled and slightly twisted, amongst the Crataegus. We noticed the parched faded fruits that remained from the year passed. One could only imagine how it would delicately infuse the woodland with romance come mid-May, a forager’s delight hidden from sight. A tree that has become increasingly rare within the landscape.  

Centuries of human selection and sequencing have produced thousands of apple cultivars that have been domesticated mainly from the Asian M. sieversii but secondarily from M. sylvestris - where the M. domestica has shown to be more closely genetically related. This sequencing has seen a shift from the smaller, sour tasting fruits into the larger, sweeter, and more desirable tasting apples that we use today. Wild apple is regarded as threatened in several European countries because of hybridisation and lack of regeneration and it is important to support its presence in the landscape, something we will begin this Autumn. The wild apple tends to be incredibly resilient, naturally found scattered in gaps or at the edge of woodlands. However, it has a weak competitive nature and requires open light, these trees are often found as individuals or in small groups. We are lucky to have another solo M. sylvestris which lies in an open field above the property. It had blown over, most probably from a strong wind, and resprouted as a ‘phoenix tree’, it’s will to survive making it more unique in character. Previously this land was used for pasturage but last year the introduction of a softwood plantation through a Welsh government scheme will one day see the end to this beautifully charismatic tree, replaced with a monoculture plantation that will destroy the biodiversity of the land we both love. It’s hard to see areas connected to mature and established woodlands planted so insensitively. It will be roughly 40 years before we see them ready to be harvested, time one would hope would go towards establishing a mixed broadleaf woodland that would provide a move in the right direction.   

We are always searching for ways to create a language that can be translated throughout our gardens, a species that can be used to shape different spaces, whether it be a multi-stem, pleached, espalier, fan trained or Corden, a standard, half standard or bush form and the choice of rootstock that can personalise it to fit within a specific sized garden. Apples have this quality - to make a space feel ornamental or traditional, gnarled and wild, or to simply act as a species to complement other natives. It is an opportunity to plant a tree that was one of the primary ancestral genomes such as a M. sylvestris, and adding to that depth with a M. domestica and more ornamental varieties such as ‘Evereste’ and ‘Red Sentinel’. Combinations that can provide a language and connection between the landscape and the more cultivated garden.   

Over the past couple of years we have become increasingly fascinated by Malus - perhaps because of it’s versatility. When selecting the species of trees that would inhabit the garden, we realised quite quickly that we wanted to provide a valuable response to those found in the surrounding landscape. We wanted them to portray a relaxed, understated character but one that aired on the ornamental side, especially closer to the house. Malus will become a tree that is scattered throughout the garden, their forms adapting to shape the individual spaces they occupy. Areas that require a more pared up aesthetic comprise of a more cultivated variety, whereas areas that can afford a more natural character move closer to its major progenitor, further away from the property and cusping into the landscape where we will be adding to the woodland over the coming years to regain its presence.  

We have used M. evereste to occupy the spaces nearer to the house, a variety that we tend to lean on when selecting a more cultivated crab apple. Its blossom is both romantic and distinct, linking fluently with the established apples within the garden. We have enjoyed the transition from the dark pink buds that open in an intermittent fashion to unveil white flowers, providing a stunningly captivating display. Now entering May, the blossom is in full swing, and the cessation of the pink hues reveals a tree that now feels unembellished and settled, a cloud like showiness that encompasses the house, a moment of unity that will fade to provide room for the next flourish. 

The Crataegus that sit behind the Malus are already showing signs that they will be shifting into their moment of flower. We wanted to choose two species that for a moment would conjoin to provide a oneness, a chance to fill the courtyard with flamboyancy and romance before the Malus withdraws its ornate display to allow passage for the Crataegus to take president. When positioning the species, we were keen to keep them grouped. The two M. evereste have been positioned through the aptitudes of the doorways and windows to allow for a deeper connection to the garden, whereas the Crataegus sits further into the courtyard, slowly allowing your eye to be drawn further into the courtyard as the season unravels.  

As it stands there is a solo M. sylvestris that sits on the bank above the garden, its blossom caught from certain views  allows the M. evereste a chance to connect. We will be looking to add further layers to the bank to increase this connection along with more Crataegus to start a conversation and language that forges a new direction for the garden. 

 To quote Henry Thoreau “The flowers of the apple are perhaps the most beautiful of any tree’s, so copious and so delicious to both sight and scent.”