Not far from home, in a corner of Darley Park, there's a walled garden dedicated to the National Collection of Hydrangeas. It's a place I've visited frequently
in summer, but a sunny day last week seemed like the perfect opportunity to check it out in autumn.
I'd half expected that it might look drab and dull - after all it IS autumn - but I was pleasantly surprised.
I remember hydrangeas grown by my mother which just turned brown or beige in autumn but these hadn't; while their colours had obviously changed and muted over the weeks there was still a range of dusky pinks, reds, mauves, and purples.
Some, like this particular one, even had the various stages of colours - moving from white to pink to green/soft red.
And some even have stunning foliage, as bright and colourful as the flowers.
Every time I visit I realise there's a lot more to hydrangeas than the pink mop-heads I remember from childhood.
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