Hedgerow Design

We had the task of figuring out how to define a space for a wedding ceremony that was to take place on the edge of the water at end of a very large field. Something big, not an arbor, something natural. We settled on bundles of twigs. with bright fluttery ribbons twisting around them.

Then the day of the ceremony dawned misty with showers and thunderstorms threatening. Would it even take place at the water’s edge or would it be undercover elsewhere? No one would know until the last minute. So we decided to line the path that wedding guests would take down to the water. This way the towers and ribbons would be visible from the tent where the reception would be held, should no one venture down to the water.

As guests arrived for the wedding, they would see these across the field. Moving to the end of the rock wall and they saw the pathway defined by a pair of smaller towers.

And then as they entered the towers with the fluttering ribbons led the guests along a mown path to their destination.

The ceremony, by the way, did end up being held at the water’s edge, with the full moon rising during the evening’s events. — A. C.

We’ve been working to turn this island property around. Three years ago the designer of the original planting plan miscalculated the amount of sun the site receives as well as the voracious appetites of the deer on the island. So many of the ferns specified for one side of the house burned out and the perennial garden was exceedingly sparse. Since then we’ve been working to massage the plantings, deer proofing as much as possible the perennial garden and adding appropriate shrubs and trees to naturalize the other sides of the house into the existing landscape.

The perennial garden is starting to be abundant — this is a photo from roughly the same spot as one in a late April entry in this journal.

This is a garden that is seen from the ground level as well as from above.

The hillside behind the house is starting to fill in with plantings.

The white flowering shrubs just below the patio are Summer Snowflake viburnum. The nifty thing about these shrubs is that after an initial big blossoming, they have sporadic white flowers all summer.

We’ve just finished lining the pathways with blueberry sod. In a few years the bright green hay-scented ferns will fill in behind the blueberries. Another element we’ve added is the birch trees visible at several levels in the background. — A. C.

Vegetables in particular grow in wonderful ways, displaying strictly ordered patterns. At least that’s what I’m noticing right now. And I’m starting to think that some of these patterns might make interesting rugs. The corn is magnificent in the sunlight.

And I probably grow artichokes only to watch the patterns of the leaves.

The sungold tomatoes are starting to ripen and are tiny bursts of tomato-flavor, but the unripe strings of fruit are visual taste treats.

I keep thinking that some of these might make very interesting hooked rugs this winter, quite different from the larger landscapes I’ve been working on, but in keeping with the apple pillows, moss and low tide rug. — A. C.

I love how the cats magically show up in the garden. Sometimes they are being flowers.

Sometimes they are just finding shade and doing that catnapping thing.

But then sometimes they are showing off, as Emmett is here.

I’ve also noticed both of the kitty-boys lurking around the garden walls, pouncing on voles and carrying them off to the killing grounds. Stuart actually seems particularly adept at finding and catching chipmunks — I had no idea we had so many around. So there may be a very practical reason for having cats around the garden, but I am captivated mainly by the entertainment value. — A. C.

Yesterday Julie and a visitor almost stepped on this turtle which somehow found itself right in the middle of our path.

What a spectacular underbelly it has:

We’re not sure where it was heading, but we put it on the edge of our pond, which now has water thanks to a few good thunderstorms last Thursday and Friday.

May the pond stay full and the turtle be happy there. — A. C.

While working on landscape designs and gardens, I try to work with larger blocks of space and think about relationships between buildings, bed, entrances, etc. I’m thinking often in terms of large sweeps of texture. So for instance, this orange and yellow extravaganza against the wall of one of our raised bed gardens is a powerful punch from a distance, and it works to soften the wall along the driveway. (Actually, it hides the wall this time of year.)

But the details of individual plants and colors, those are exciting. Each daylily bloom lasts for one day only, but what a spectacular display for that moment. What subtle coloring, what interesting shapes.

Of course, few details are weirder than hens-and chicks in bloom. Positively Suessian.

I’m still fascinated by our tomatoes. The speckled roman is amazing: I’d call it striped right now, more than speckled.

Late July, strikes me as the hinge time in the growing season: Spring is all about “becoming” and expectation, and from here on out, many plants are finishing their growth and starting to close down, looking toward winter. Right now is about fullness and fecundity — especially given the rain last week. — A. C.

I love vegetable gardens. Sometimes I love the way they look so much that I don’t want to pick the produce. But I do because there is nothing like super-fresh totally delicious food in the summer.

We’ve been eating peas and freezing peas and have another huge picking waiting for this evening.

To think I was wondering if the tomatillos would fruit:

My hope is that the tomatoes will ripen at the same time as the tomatillos, that the cilantro will stick around, and that the hot peppers will come along, all in time for perfect salsa.  The Cherokee Purple tomatoes are looking good.

Beans, both pole beans and bush beans are starting to flower, we can have beets now and some small carrots. We’ve gone scrabbling for new potatoes. And it’s time to get rid of the radishes we haven’t pulled yet so the parsley between them can spring forth. Artichoke plants are looking pretty good, too. — A. C.

Our eight Rhode Island Reds have been living in a crate in the barn since they came to us six weeks ago. Here they were last weekend.

We knew the time was coming for them to move to the palatial estate our friend Jon Bailey had been building for them, a fox-proof and hopefully all other predators-proof run attached to the old coop. Yesterday morning was clearly the time, as one had escaped:

Actually, the escapee is Billy. One of the eight chicks is not like the others; i.e., a rooster-to-be. We’re hoping he’ll be a nice one. ???!  So Julie spent Sunday morning giving the coop a thorough cleaning and the new girls journeyed to Taj Ma-chicken yesterday afternoon.

The old girls were wary.

The new kids have taken over the coop and zip all over their new quarters.

No pecking order squabbles with the old girls yet. We’ll see.

They did find the food right away. ‚ A. C.

The adage I’ve heard about new plantings is that first year they sleep, the second, creep and the third, leap. This garden on Islesboro is certainly leaping. We installed the garden and walkway in August of 2006, and had to dig out gravelly fill and add good loam and compost. It seems to be working.

One of the challenges of gardening on Islesboro is contending with voracious deer. As we did not want to put any sort of fence around the garden, but did want to use some plants that we know deer enjoy nibbling, we opted to try a “fence” of plants that the deer do not like. Hence, the outer edge of the main garden is a combination of lavender and blue oat grass, both things that deer turn away from. So far, so good.

The deer don’t seem to be sampling the willow to the left of the walkway either. Fingers crossed.

I planted some foxtail lilies among the  nepeta and rose, hoping that they would survive (I’ve tried them elsewhere in the midcoast and they haven’t made the winters).

All of this is on the front of the house, and this year we’ve turned the corner of a new sunroom and begun to develop the other areas.

Endless summer hydrangeas grace one end of the addition.

And we are beginning a shade garden around the corner. Maybe in three years these new plantings will be as lush as the ones on the other side of the house. Our next challenge on this property is to create a water feature. — A. C.

One of the gardens on Islesboro that we’ve been developing over the past few years in on four (or maybe it’s five, depending on how one counts) levels. When we first arrived the garden had a few peonies and thousands of poppies mixed in with weeds, along with climbing hydrangeas along the walls. We pulled the poppies and weeds, kept the hydrangeas and peonies, and have added and massaged the gardens every year.

Hauling plants, garden debris and compost up and down the steps is a task. But they look good.

While the peonies tend to be through blooming by the end of June, the rest of the garden is timed to provide a display in July and August, the main months when the clients are in residence.

We’ve learned that the challenge of this site is keeping it well watered in dry summers, as this one seems to be, and choosing plant material that is able to withstand the winter winds and cold.

In spots where plants didn’t survive the winter we’ve added a number of annuals this year, many of which I started from seed in our greenhouse. I look forward to seeing how they perform, especially the gentian salvia. — A. C.