Poppy Day

As we walked towards the entrance of Wisley garden yesterday a woman was ringing a handbell - the sort they once used in school playgrounds. It was 11 am and everyone stood in silence for two minutes to observe the act of remembrance.

Afterwards a young couple congratulated their five or maybe six-year-old daughter for keeping still and quiet. It was an opportunity for them to explain what must have seemed an odd thing to happen for a curious youngster.

It's good that people are doing this. Few of us standing there would have had much experience of war, but all of us have grown up with its consequences and most of us have indirect experiences through either parents, grandparents or great grandparents.

Broken branches

Few Germans, indeed, will be able to track back their family trees without finding broken branches from family deaths in one of the world wars.

War must have touched every nation in some way. For this reason in our connected world I wonder if Remembrance Day should be harmonized internationally around the red poppy symbol. If the charitable link were to be maintained through the British Legion, that benefits from poppy sales, there would need to be a rethink around charitable aims. I, for one, would welcome part of my charitable donation being used to help, for example, land mine victims, globally.

Talking to various friends abroad through the internet yesterday it was clear that while many nations do observe remembrance days there is not always the same act of intensity around the ritual as we experience in the UK. In France and Belgium, few people wear poppies. In Germany there is Volkstrauertag, a day of national mourning, but it does not seem to be linked with charity giving to help those injured through warfare.

Anzac Day

The Australians and New Zealanders understandably focus their remembrance ceremonies around Anzac Day, but November 11 seems somehow appropriate. It was a defined end to what was recognised as the first world war, what some, idealistically described as the war to end all wars.

There will come a time when the word "remembrance" itself begins to lose its meaning but a degree of contemplation around the destructiveness and sacrifice in war is worth this tiny annual "time out" in our lives.

White poppy

I don't think the white poppy is appropriate because, while it stands for the admirable aim of "world peace", it loses that linkage of memory and respect for those who gave their lives out of a sense of duty even, in many cases, after they had grown tired and disillusioned with any greater cause.

Remembrance of war also reminds us of the good things that flourish in conflict - a sense of purpose, comradeship, community that are often abandoned or lost afterwards. War can bring out the worst in people but we should never forget that it it can bring out the best in people too.

Stormy weather - you can bank on it

High winds are bending the trees and rain is coming down like stair rods. Yes, it's bank holiday Monday. Not a problem for me. I'm tucked up in my office, working on my FT column (or would be had I not strayed on to the blog).

We rarely go away during bank holidays, preferring instead to take time out when the roads are less likely to be clogged with traffic and the high streets packed with people. It was a weekend for gardening, a short trip to the river and an evening in London for George's 16th birthday treat - a visit to the IMAX cinema to see the dire Speed Racer. Well, George enjoyed it.

The cinema trip and a restaurant meal for five left a big hole in my wallet. I can't afford to have a family anymore.

So it was back to the garden which was looking in excellent fettle before the stormy weather. In fact it was looking so good and the weather seemed so perfect for fishing that I ducked out of the gardening for a little while to visit the River Wey.

There were a few Mayflies around settling undisturbed on the river surface but nothing eating them. Not a rise anywhere. I had probably arrived too early but didn't bother to hang around. I had just too many gardening jobs.

We made a short trip to Wisley, only to find that they had pulled down the old glasshouse to make way for a maize maze. I really don't like the way that RHS Wisley is heading. It's a plant collection, not a theme park.

The old glasshouse would have usefully taken some of the visitor pressure from the new one. I preferred its scale and much preferred the way it showed its orchids. The shop has become a little overbearing too although the plant centre retains an impressive choice of healthy specimens that are probably worth paying slightly over the odds.

So yes, we ventured out just a little way on the bank holiday, but only for short journeys. Now it's back to work and I don't mind one bit.

Wollemi at Wisley

I couldn't believe the traffic and crowds at the Royal Horticultural Society gardens at Wisley today. I'd only popped down there for a plant pot but wandered in to find out what all the fuss was about.

The national fruit show had a big marquee in the gardens with tasting stalls. That said, Wisley has become so busy now that any sunny day at a weekend - and today was glorious - is enough to pack the place out.

What a change from 20 years ago when we first joined the society. At that time Sunday was a members' day but today commercialism, greater spending power, and all those TV gardening programmes have made a big difference to demand so the rules have changed, allowing entry for anyone willing to pay the entrance fee.

The gardens have expanded so much and with the new glasshouse they can easily absorb the crowds. But pressure on the car parks has grown and the place has lost its intimacy. Still I enjoy our visits, but today I only wanted a plant pot.

The adjoining garden centre is excellent because of the variety and quality of the plants. I noticed they had some Wollemi pines for sale at just under £100 each. The first time I saw this tree in the botanical gardens in Sydney during the late 1990s the specimen was so rare it was kept behind bars.

That was not long after its discovery in two small stands that are its only known remaining habitat in the wild. Now, however, the tree has been propagated and anyone can have one in the garden.

Beyond the marquees, the cake stalls, the rare plants, the crowds and the car park I managed to find a plant pot. I'm sure life used to be simpler than this.

Sex, drugs and Orchids that grow in the dark

Orchids are amazing plants. Firstly they are the biggest flower group in the world with about 35,000 varieties. Secondly they have developed all kinds of diverse ways to pollinate themselves.

Take the Bee Orchid. Somehow - I suppose it has to be natural selection - it has evolved a flower that looks the image of a female bee. So male bees hop on board for a bit of casual sex. While doing so the orchid's pollinia - its pollen sack - hooks on to the bee which deposits it at the next Bee Orchid to which the bee has taken a fancy. So as the bee does what birds and bees do, in blissful ignorance of the way it has been duped, the only real sex that's going on is between the orchids.

Slipper orchids attract thirsty insects looking for a drink in their flower pouch or sack. Often the insect slips in, gets wet and hooks the pollinia as it dries off.

One orchid is a little more sophisticated, exuding a narcotic substance that puts the insect's lights out when a lid closes over the sack. When the lid lifts, the insect comes round then crawls out with the pollinia attached. In this case the narcotic is addictive enough to drag the insect back to other flowers, like tiny insect junkies visiting their suppliers.

I know all this because we went to the Royal Horticultural Society Wisley today to photograph trees. There were daffodils in bloom. Daffodils in mid-January! Just to prove it I photographed Gill with some (above). On the way out we called in the plant centre. It was Orchid Weekend so the shop was packed with orchids and there was a Gardeners' Question Time-style presentation where, apart from the above, we learned that there is an orchid in Australia that grows underground. What's the point of that?

Wisley's resident expert assures us that Orchids are pretty easy to grow. Don't you believe it. We bought a Cymbidium two years ago and after a wonderful initial flower display we have had nothing but leaves. I took it outside in the summer, just as I was told to do. I have been sparing with food and water. It doesn't get too much sunlight. I have even tried talking to it in my best Prince of Wales' brogue.

After all the excitement at the start of this note I might have expected an X-rated Cymbidium by now, a Cymbidium so outrageous that it has to be stored on the top shelf , away from prying eyes or, more alarming still, a visit from the obscene vegetation squad.

Sadly I think we have bought the most Puritanical orchid on the planet. It doesn't dance, sing or flash at any passing wasps. It simply sits there looking green, dull and bored. It needs to get out more.