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| Old farm equipment that was already on the property when my parents purchased Dry Creek. |
When you go down deep enough into your ground you find your true place in that valley of ancestors that inhabits every back yard.
--Wendy Johnson, Gardening at the Dragon's Gate: Work in the Wild and Cultivated World
Yesterday, as a service project, I took a group of youth to help a man with yard work. Part of our task was to extend his level backyard out into the hillside so that he could add a patio. Even though the soil was a soft, crumbly clay, the project involved moving lots of dirt. It was strenuous work to say the least, and in my opinion, the project would have very little impact on his yard: a flat, green lawn ending in a patio made of concrete pavers and a concrete block retaining wall. There would be no transition from house to hobby farm (barns and horse coral) to the wilds of the canyons and mountains just beyond his property line.
So, here's a landscaping tip: If you are moving lots of soil, not only are you working way too hard to enjoy gardening, but you are most likely destroying the natural beauty of your yard. Even if your lot is primarily flat, small undulations, such as sunken areas from septic-tank leach lines or just run-off gullies that occurred during home construction can be accented with stones and plants to become the highlights of your yard.
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| A pond I created in a depression in what once was the barn yard. |
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A dry pond I created in a sink hole from a septic tank leach line.
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Likewise, if you're renovating an established yard, it is usually better to work with existing flowerbeds, no matter how mundane, than it is to start from scratch because you can use established trees and shrubs as focal points and build your garden organically around them.
In short, great gardens like great architecture pay tribute to their surroundings and historical context no matter how insignificant they be. Something is automatically lost when topography, established plants and site-history are ignored. As the Chinese Revolution proved, fecundity doesn't appear out of a void. The number one rule of landscaping, as in everything beautiful, is
don't start from zero.
Instead, see and honor the beauty that is already there and accent it with your own particular flare.
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Interior of the one remaining farm building, a lean-to pig shed, which I've converted into a Western town.
I've also used it as a motif throughout the yard.
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| Rustic pergola makes use of weathered pine poles. |
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| Mushroom growing-bed salvaged from our local mushroom factory turned sideways to create a wall. |
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| Salvaged window in a rustic shade-wall I created for the back patio. |
Great gardens, like great neighborhoods, aren't designed in sweeping master-plans. They evolve slowly through a constant, unconscious and conscious dialogue between parts. This does not mean anything goes. It means that rather than authoritarian monologue there is conversation between good and not-so-good neighbors. A great gardener, like a great grass-roots organizer, unifies whatever is already there into a whole rather than ripping out what exists. Even the not-so-beautiful shrub or tree takes on meaning when the right plant is placed beside it. An ugly aluminum fence rail, once arrogant, continues to contribute history and vocabulary without monopolizing the show when smeared bluish green and covered in vine.
No subway.
