I'm sure I read somewhere earlier this year about Green lamp posts. You, like google, were probably thinking of the classic municipal green-painted metal lamp-posts, perhaps something along the line of these:
Not what I'm thinking of, sorry. These have a kind of planting sleeve on them, full of hard-wearing plants that strip the air of pollution and toxins while lifting our spirits when we see them:
According to the Telegraph, the pillars will "come in three different varieties; the ‘biodiversity’ blend offers a year-round food source for insects and birds, the ‘pollution relief blend’ uses a combination of purifying plants such as lamb’s ear, box and ivy, and the ‘flower tower’ blend aims to add an explosion of colour to the streets and promote mental wellbeing."
Anyone thinking, oh, will they now? may be tickled to hear that they've been picked up by that notorious pollution blackspot, Belgravia, with much talk about the potential, should it be rolled out to other areas. Apparently they don't require watering because they have a solar-powered circulation irrigation system (presumably that little black thing at the bottom of the plants in the photo is a tiny water butt) but I can't see that handling a six-week drought without a little supplementary attention, no matter how hard-wearing the plants, so (given this summer's weather) they've possibly already been trialled and failed. I originally found out about them from an article detailing the highs and lows of municipal vertical gardening, including the fate of vertical gardens when their irrigation fails, which dances around, but never quite says, they're a bit expensive for the public sector.
Nevertheless, I'm quite taken by these. They're little and light and look quite easily improvisable by a guerilla gardener with access to a maker space and a hardware store. They won't last (as anyone who has had anything powered by one of those cheap little solar panels in their garden fully knows), but then again, what does?
Lamp posts. That's what lasts. If they were cast into the lamp post and running off the lamp post's power, then we'd have something solid, potentially beautiful. Depending on the shape of the planting pockets, it might not even need planting, we could leave it to pick up dandelions and red valerian, and regretfully weed out the willow and the buddleia. I can't see them ever being no maintenance, I'm afraid, which will probably place them out of the reach of the most severely polluted areas. And it's questionable whether they're doing a great deal more than the traditional two or four-down hanging basket:
I also noted ivy in the list above of "purifying plants" (alongside box, which is hard enough to keep healthy when it's upright and at ground level!) and that more usually turns up in the "problems" column for lamp posts. After all, a moment's inattention, a vigorous climber and a lamp post is all it needs for this to happen:
...which is a bit of a green column too far, and will have to go before it blocks the light. That's a hop vine, by the way. I don't know if they purify the air, but as a native plant they are great for biodiversity and certainly lift my spirit.
Not what I'm thinking of, sorry. These have a kind of planting sleeve on them, full of hard-wearing plants that strip the air of pollution and toxins while lifting our spirits when we see them:
According to the Telegraph, the pillars will "come in three different varieties; the ‘biodiversity’ blend offers a year-round food source for insects and birds, the ‘pollution relief blend’ uses a combination of purifying plants such as lamb’s ear, box and ivy, and the ‘flower tower’ blend aims to add an explosion of colour to the streets and promote mental wellbeing."
Anyone thinking, oh, will they now? may be tickled to hear that they've been picked up by that notorious pollution blackspot, Belgravia, with much talk about the potential, should it be rolled out to other areas. Apparently they don't require watering because they have a solar-powered circulation irrigation system (presumably that little black thing at the bottom of the plants in the photo is a tiny water butt) but I can't see that handling a six-week drought without a little supplementary attention, no matter how hard-wearing the plants, so (given this summer's weather) they've possibly already been trialled and failed. I originally found out about them from an article detailing the highs and lows of municipal vertical gardening, including the fate of vertical gardens when their irrigation fails, which dances around, but never quite says, they're a bit expensive for the public sector.
Nevertheless, I'm quite taken by these. They're little and light and look quite easily improvisable by a guerilla gardener with access to a maker space and a hardware store. They won't last (as anyone who has had anything powered by one of those cheap little solar panels in their garden fully knows), but then again, what does?
Lamp posts. That's what lasts. If they were cast into the lamp post and running off the lamp post's power, then we'd have something solid, potentially beautiful. Depending on the shape of the planting pockets, it might not even need planting, we could leave it to pick up dandelions and red valerian, and regretfully weed out the willow and the buddleia. I can't see them ever being no maintenance, I'm afraid, which will probably place them out of the reach of the most severely polluted areas. And it's questionable whether they're doing a great deal more than the traditional two or four-down hanging basket:
I also noted ivy in the list above of "purifying plants" (alongside box, which is hard enough to keep healthy when it's upright and at ground level!) and that more usually turns up in the "problems" column for lamp posts. After all, a moment's inattention, a vigorous climber and a lamp post is all it needs for this to happen:
...which is a bit of a green column too far, and will have to go before it blocks the light. That's a hop vine, by the way. I don't know if they purify the air, but as a native plant they are great for biodiversity and certainly lift my spirit.
No comments:
Post a Comment