Two New Gardens (ahem) Take Root
Now that we are more than two months out from the summer solstice and the worst of the summer heat is behind us, the time has come to begin digging new garden beds. I must admit that this is the part of the whole landscaping process that I most enjoy. A real bonus is when that first bit of turf comes up right on the heels of some grand inspiration. This week we started laying out two new spaces—one planned, and one in a spur-of-the-moment flurry of activity.
The Arrival Court
The hardscaping of The Arrival Court was a mini-saga all of its own. Delayed by six months, fraught with the surprise discovery of a septic tank, and then complicated by several conceptual false starts as Daniel and I worked to develop a concept for the space. This is my first experience working with a landscape architect and it has been very positive. I’ve learned that there is a huge gap between a keen amateur’s seemingly well-formed ideas and their successful real-world implementation. Oftentimes the delay that comes from this give-and-take allows ideas to become better and more in harmony with the rest of the space.
From the rough planting plan I started with several terms bouncing in my head: Boxwoods, Calamint, Piet Ouldoff meets Gertrude Jekyll, drought tolerance, rabbits and deer. I really enjoy the process of laying out string lines and lifting sod for new spaces, cutting crisp grass borders, and amending the soil to give every plant the best chance of survival. Over the years I’ve found that three hand tools—a manual turf cutter, a small sharp spade, and a strong garden fork—are all that I need to cut everything but the largest beds. The secret is to choose a day when an overnight rain has softened the top 1” of soil enough to make it come up easily.
We’ve also made the decision to source and plant everything for the Arrival Court on our own. With forks on the front end loader, a pick-up truck, and a tree sling, I can handle anything up to a 30” root ball. A sturdy tree cart and ramps allows me to move anything up to about 300 lbs with relative ease. And most important, my rechargeable auger is like having your own trained badger but without the mess. The selection of perennials was fun and easy, with Calamints mixed with Verbena and Catmint, with Salvias for some earlier color. The palette is blue, purple, and white with a bit of soft pink sprinkled throughout. The Boxwoods are on hold as the selection has not been great, and our local supplier will be digging more as the days cool.
The Shade Garden
Adjacent to the White Garden, The Shade Garden (as we’ve started calling it) has been in inspirational limbo from the beginning. I guess we just needed to live in the space for awhile before it made sense. Daniel’s original plan called for some pretty extensive hardscaping and a sort of “Jewel Garden” approach, complete with water feature. The expense, as well as the ongoing maintenance, compelled us to permanently shelve this idea. Several attempts to lay out a “Woodland Walk” proved unsuccessful and I started down a path of creating a small garden room, bordered by a contemporary metal fence, to define the space and deter marauding rabbits. And that was how things started.
Grabbing some string, pegs, and the turf lifter I decided to embrace the rectilinear nature of the space and join the tip of the terrace with the end of the fence. Within this space (partial sun) we want to repeat the curving lines of the hostas and continue the viburnum and hydrangea motif. An under planting of Hellebores, Bulbs and Hedera will complete the picture.
Directly opposite stands the imposing wall of Boxwoods that dominate the space. Symmetry demanded that I clean up the foreground of this untidy border and I unearthed some of the most inhospitable soil on the property: think children’s sidewalk chalked mixed with stone chippings covered in Stiltgrass. This will need a layer of commercial compost before I complete the bed with Vinca and a slate pathway. I realized as I worked this awful ground that it was the result of the stone walls and backfill from the 1844 addition to the house—compacted and untended for more than 175 years. And it was as I stretched and looked up from this backbreaking little job of work that I realized my initial thought of running a fence line between these two beds was completely wrongheaded.
Without a doubt the rectangular lawn should be extended well past this line, ending in a semicircle, surrounded by large shrubs/small trees, encompassing a substantial focal point. At the moment I’m thinking Oakleaf Hydrangeas and/or Kousa Dogwoods with Bluebells, White Daffodils, Peonies, Ferns and Deutzia along the long borders. It just shows how months of looking at things on paper can’t compare with a single moment of inspiration, so easy and obvious, that comes when you see the space in real life.
This does mean that the entire autumn schedule has just been upended, since my enthusiasm for this project has now rocketed past all the other things that need to happen before winter, and I don’t have the discipline to calmly make some notes and move on with my carefully planned agenda. But I suppose that’s how gardening works. Just when you start to feel a bit stale about the endless road ahead, something comes along to reignite the fire.
This episode was just delightful, every word, although I particularly liked "my rechargeable auger is like having your own trained badger but without the mess". I know exactly what you mean about looking up and having inspiration strike, a different take on gardening organically. A tip of my garden hat to your garden artistry and its unfolding canvas!