One disadvantage of having a garden of mostly herbaceous perennials is spring. There's no getting around it, as the early spring cleanup progresses, the garden resembles a field of war, especially mine, because I burn most of the grasses. Here is the garden after three weekends of burnings (I can garden only on weekends).
The two arborvitae (Thuja occidentalis) are just for thought. I need to add some evergreen structure, and I set these two out in pots just to get a sense of scale and placement. These are actually resting on top of three giant miscanthus (burned to the ground) that I intend to move (they flop and block the path). Arborvitae certainly is not my first choice in evergreens, but it may be the only species that can survive my wet conditions. Even though it's a terribly overused shrub, I do have more respect for it after seeing the Thuja occidentalis forests on Mount Desert Island in Maine a couple of years ago.
To the left of the end of the pond is the start of a new raised planting area built of dry laid stone (see previous post). It looks like a pile of rubble in the photo above. Below you can see it taking shape. It will have a long amoeba-like form, reflecting the shape of the pond. My plan, which is subject to instant change, is to plant a large, spreading oakleaf hydrangea at the end abutting the pond, and use topiary boxwoods along the length to create a formal, structural feature that will contrast with the wildness of the rest of the garden.
Next weekend, if the ground has drained sufficiently, I plan to chop down the remaining plant superstructure with my giant string trimmer (it looks like a lawn mower). I'll leave the chopped remains in place to increase the organic content of my clay soil.
If you look beyond the in-progress stone structure, you'll see more black smudges where I burned other grasses. Yes, this is the dismal season.
(I do intend to work on the spring appearance of the garden. But that will take time, and money.)
This looks like a mammoth task, but exciting! I'm new to your blog - looking forward to following the development of this.
ReplyDeleteSince I've taken to burning most of the grasses, the spring cleanup isn't really a big task. I could easily do it in two days if I didn't have the interruption of a work week. I'm adjusting to the bleak look of spring because, as the plants emerge over the next two months, the change is almost miraculous.
ReplyDeleteI am envious of all your space. Do you find the burning therapeutic? I am glad to see I can leave comments again.
ReplyDeleteThere are good spring flowers/bulbs, of course, but it is the season anyway before the garden fills up. Isn't it inevitable that it has an emptiness then at this time of year? Funny that no-one writes - until you - about that characteristic. But then people don't often say interesting things about gardens.
ReplyDeleteXXXXX Anne
The burning is fun. Since the grasses are grouped, not spread continuously over a wide area, burning is safe and easily controlled. They go up in just a few seconds, sort of like slow fireworks. And it's an appropriate practice for a prairie garden. The heat is intense. I have to cut grasses near trees or shrubs. Last year I almost lost two Viburnum 'Winthur' by trying to burn the giant miscanthus, which is too near them. That one will be hand cut.
ReplyDeleteWe've a gray, beaten down landscape on our hands here as well. But the best days are ahead of us, right?
ReplyDeleteI've never been a fan of the ubiquitous amoeba-shaped raised bed but must admit that my curiousity is peaked. What sort of topiary shapes are you considering? Oudolf-style Bauhaus shapes or something even simpler?
PH
Anne,
ReplyDeleteYes, every fall I plan to plant hundreds of daffodils, which can survive my hostile conditions, but never get to that task. Actually, I'm beginning to like the dismal time of year, the blank earth full of roots and tubers, the hidden potential under that dreary surface.
Peter,
ReplyDeleteI can't do this without raising it above the muck and mire! Undecided on topiary shapes: balls, cylinders, perhaps an undulating mass of boxwoods grown together and trimmed into continuous wavy hedge (like the boxes in Jacques Wirtz' home garden; I've seen the photographs in several magazines and books). I'll probably wait to see how they look against the garden in full summer before making a final decision.
It's not the raised bed I have reservations about, it's the shape. This is a completely subjective thing perhaps but Amoeba-shaped beds are a serious pet peeve of mine - I find that they more often than not end up looking bit like a phallis, but, you know,ahem, flacid. Maybe this isn't a bad thing. It's up to you.
ReplyDeleteAnd now that you mention it - do you actually need the stone retaining walls? Maybe a Keith Wiley-esque mound (or three) of earth might help the topiary integrate with the rest of the planting? I hope I'm not being disrespectful here. You're often asking for critical feedback after all...
PH
Not adding anything new here, just whining about having a perrenial garden that looks so brown and flat come this time of year. Sure, I have trees and shrubs now in place, but they are young, and the exanse between them is desolate. I can't wait until late summer and autumn when it all looks really good again--finally--but then, of course, the snow and cold is not far behind. I think thuja is the right way to go for what you have to work with. I just planted another malus in my clay, with slight amending, so we'll see how that goes.
ReplyDeletePeter,
ReplyDeleteI'm considering your suggestions. I originally planned to have a trapezoid with straight lines, but I think making it with the rough stone I have and limited stone laying skills would be difficult. I'm intrigued by the soil mounds a la Keith Wiley. I had already planned to do some of this in various areas where I want to try bergenias and other plants that otherwise might rot. Thanks for the suggestions. Now I have to decide whether I want a giant flaccid phallus in the garden (thanks for the image).
BV,
ReplyDeleteI'm trying to see my empty garden as an aesthetic asset, a blank field with subtle, rough texture that will miraculously change over the next few weeks, part of the natural process that reveals itself in time. (Okay, I'm trying this idea on for size.)