My ideal garden space
Apr. 9th, 2012 04:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
averygoodun42From ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
mundungus42's meme question. This is definitely imaginary, but I can dream about it becoming real eventually...
The back of the lot is hilly, but the slopes are softened with stone terraces and curved staircases that seem to have sprung out of the earth of their own accord, complete with moss and lichen. As you meander down the comfortably narrow walkways, you come to a small, rocky stream, burbling merrily under an old, simple, wooden bridge. Looking downstream, you find, almost hidden by rushes, a small pond which is home to water lilies, irises and a dwarf red Japanese maple, draping itself over the water like a water maiden. Frogs love it here, as do the koi.
The layout looks almost Japanese, but there's a casualness to it that's very English. Or even Irish in its wildness. There's a profusion of peonies in one corner, and a tangle of vinca and ivy, battling for dominance along the rock walls. Huckleberry bushes framing the edges of beds with small, bright green leaves (and even brighter red berries come August) which shine against the dark evergreens lining the lot.
There's a small table and two chairs under a Japanese cherry tree at the back of the lot (which is indistinguishable from the forest beyond) on the other side of the stream. Sitting there, you can look up the hillside and see the seasons unfolding before your eyes.
Every season brings something else into focus. In winter, the red twig dogwood and kerrias (and arbutus trees, in my imagination) glow through the snow, while the cypress, holly and junipers and witch hazel give the landscape interesting shapes.
In spring, the cherry trees reign supreme, bursting to life with fluffy pink and white blossoms that scatter petals everywhere when the breeze picks up. But the cherries are heralded by the crocuses, muscari and hyacinths that crop up, in profusion, on every ledge, and every bed, while the creeping flox cascades down the walls.
As spring progresses, more plants show, bringing forth hosta spikes, bleeding heart, dogwood trees, crabapple blooms, and irises. Oh, the irises. There aren't all that many irises, but they are there, adding an almost tropical feel to the temperate garden.
In June, just about everything bursts into bloom. Wild roses that had been humble shrubs in the background burst forth with swaths of small white flowers. The peonies try to show everything up with their big, fat heads. Alyssum, impatiens, petunias and balloon flowers are there. Multicolored daylilies line walkways, evening primroses fill tree-beds with a soft pink glow, and all different types of clematis burst into bloom. In the shade, the kerria blossoms and hosta spikes show off while the ferns (of which there are many) blend the plants together.
It's fall, perhaps, that shows off the true beauty of the garden. The dogwoods, crabapples and ivies turn yellows, oranges and reds. The berries on the holly ripen and glow against its darkening foliage, while an unpruned burning bush lights up its surrounds. When the fog rolls in, the paper birches that were hidden at the back glow like ghosts through the evergreen trees branches.
It is a serene place, full of surprises if you take the time to find them. It is also a welcoming place, in a reserved kind of way, with paths that are just waiting to be discovered, though demanding they be treated with respect. And it is a calming space, separate from the rest of the world and all its hassles.
The front garden, on the other hand, is thoroughly English, starting with a wooden arbor at the decorative gate which is smothered with honeysuckle. There is grass to play on, lavender to smell, and a pleasant house behind it all, anchoring it as a home. And, of course, there are roses. Lots of roses, phlox, daisies and cheerful plants like that. Plants that welcome you home at the end of a day with a smile and a wave and perhaps even a kiss of fragrance if you stop to smell.
mundungus42's meme question. This is definitely imaginary, but I can dream about it becoming real eventually...The back of the lot is hilly, but the slopes are softened with stone terraces and curved staircases that seem to have sprung out of the earth of their own accord, complete with moss and lichen. As you meander down the comfortably narrow walkways, you come to a small, rocky stream, burbling merrily under an old, simple, wooden bridge. Looking downstream, you find, almost hidden by rushes, a small pond which is home to water lilies, irises and a dwarf red Japanese maple, draping itself over the water like a water maiden. Frogs love it here, as do the koi.
The layout looks almost Japanese, but there's a casualness to it that's very English. Or even Irish in its wildness. There's a profusion of peonies in one corner, and a tangle of vinca and ivy, battling for dominance along the rock walls. Huckleberry bushes framing the edges of beds with small, bright green leaves (and even brighter red berries come August) which shine against the dark evergreens lining the lot.
There's a small table and two chairs under a Japanese cherry tree at the back of the lot (which is indistinguishable from the forest beyond) on the other side of the stream. Sitting there, you can look up the hillside and see the seasons unfolding before your eyes.
Every season brings something else into focus. In winter, the red twig dogwood and kerrias (and arbutus trees, in my imagination) glow through the snow, while the cypress, holly and junipers and witch hazel give the landscape interesting shapes.
In spring, the cherry trees reign supreme, bursting to life with fluffy pink and white blossoms that scatter petals everywhere when the breeze picks up. But the cherries are heralded by the crocuses, muscari and hyacinths that crop up, in profusion, on every ledge, and every bed, while the creeping flox cascades down the walls.
As spring progresses, more plants show, bringing forth hosta spikes, bleeding heart, dogwood trees, crabapple blooms, and irises. Oh, the irises. There aren't all that many irises, but they are there, adding an almost tropical feel to the temperate garden.
In June, just about everything bursts into bloom. Wild roses that had been humble shrubs in the background burst forth with swaths of small white flowers. The peonies try to show everything up with their big, fat heads. Alyssum, impatiens, petunias and balloon flowers are there. Multicolored daylilies line walkways, evening primroses fill tree-beds with a soft pink glow, and all different types of clematis burst into bloom. In the shade, the kerria blossoms and hosta spikes show off while the ferns (of which there are many) blend the plants together.
It's fall, perhaps, that shows off the true beauty of the garden. The dogwoods, crabapples and ivies turn yellows, oranges and reds. The berries on the holly ripen and glow against its darkening foliage, while an unpruned burning bush lights up its surrounds. When the fog rolls in, the paper birches that were hidden at the back glow like ghosts through the evergreen trees branches.
It is a serene place, full of surprises if you take the time to find them. It is also a welcoming place, in a reserved kind of way, with paths that are just waiting to be discovered, though demanding they be treated with respect. And it is a calming space, separate from the rest of the world and all its hassles.
The front garden, on the other hand, is thoroughly English, starting with a wooden arbor at the decorative gate which is smothered with honeysuckle. There is grass to play on, lavender to smell, and a pleasant house behind it all, anchoring it as a home. And, of course, there are roses. Lots of roses, phlox, daisies and cheerful plants like that. Plants that welcome you home at the end of a day with a smile and a wave and perhaps even a kiss of fragrance if you stop to smell.
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Date: 2012-04-09 08:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-04-09 10:44 pm (UTC)