THE FRONT GARDEN GETS A MAKEOVER
I write this while wrestling with the guilt of just how madly I’ve let my back garden go. The cutback is slowly happening, with sporadic afternoon sessions of chipping my way through the grasses and straggly perennials, trying not to nip the lids off my daffs and ixia that have shot up! It’s more the patches of bare ground (the result of indecision) that have been smothered in clover, miner’s lettuce, and other unwelcome odds and ends. Such a lesson that bare ground (even mulched bare ground) will eventually grow something!
But at last, progress is happening out the front!
The image above shows the pretty and traditional planting scheme we inherited with the purchase of our home in 2017. As my inner gardener grew and my writing dredged up a new curiosity about planting and potential, I began to feel really disconnected from the vibe out the front. In all honesty, I craved to make my own mark here as I had out the back, instead of (poorly) maintaining someone else’s vision.
So I unfairly neglected it all for years as I tumbled through ideas, constantly influenced and tipping my bow in new directions as I visited and investigated others’ gardens. There has been the idea of replacing the white icebergs with burgundy ones to complement the denim blue of the house. Then the idea of a rainbow row of rose garden to replace the enormous griselinia hedge we pulled out (out of shot) before planning to remove the box hedging and plant in reflection of my back garden renovation - grasses and airy fairy perennials.
But slowly I have craved a calmer scheme while pulling my thinking back in line with the realities of the site I have to play with. Beds that receive some morning sun and a dash of light in late summer. My new plan replaces the rigidity with softer shapes, texture and gentle seasonal movement. In full transparency, I am yet to even settle on my plant palette, but I have at least made some decisions to set the tone - pushed along, as always, by my productive husband T. When he is ready to do the work - ‘I’ must be ready and decisions happen rapidly!
Unearthing a concrete pathway we didn’t know was buried under there!
We began by (fairly brutally) pulling out the box hedging and roses, aided by the Landcruiser. I had reduced influence here as was just grateful I had two strong men to do the work! The plants, at their level of maturity, were borderline as to whether they could be transplanted anyway, so they took the path of ease here.
The roses were sent to the North Canterbury countryside and my sister’s bare 10 acres and I’m relieved to say that some are showing signs of life. I salvaged what I could of the buxus hedge and parked hefty slices of it in the large strip of earth against our northern fence. I was absolutely unsure if they would survive or if I could realistically repurpose sections within my more organic vision. But it was worth a go.
T hired a digger (many men’s delight!) as we wanted to extend the beds into the compacted limestone drive. Perhaps a slightly overpowered decision which proved well worth it as we discovered a buried concrete path that would have caused a divorce if he’d had to dig that out by hand!
Secondhand bricks pilfered from my sister’s house build.
At this point I hit the autumn sale at Southern Woods nursery, panic buying their entire stock of Hakonechloa macra (Japanese wind grass), an amelanchier, two Cotinus purpurea and 10 spunky green Lomandra ‘Lime Tuff’. And then I left the poor suckers to wallow in their pots, with no further work done out there for three cold dank months.
Action stations kicked off again in July with T taking a week out of his bricklaying/picture framing work to get started on defining the brick edging of the beds. We were lucky to pilfer 400 second-hand bricks from my sister’s place (after T had completed the brick section of their new home).
I wanted the beds to curve and bend around the driveway, swelling around the front steps and tapering back to the edges of the house - not necessarily in an even fashion, just soft and functional for backing the car and accessing our side shed. He continued the freestyle gentle curves along the other two boundaries and bricked a pad where our rubbish bins now stand tidily out of the way.
The beds are intentional not even and the curves organic. I like this as a foil to the traditional rigid form of the house.
I then decided to take my shears to the jagged ‘stone henge’ sections of box hedging that I had haphazardly arranged in beds in front of the house. Freestyle (roughly) trimming them in organic rounded shapes that might resemble tortured shrubs on a windy exposed ridge. The jury is out on if this plan will succeed and if they’ll attempt to leaf up their exposed woody ends, but it was worth a go. We are lucky to have not been affected by the dreaded box blight in Canterbury yet, so until then I wanted to work with what I have at hand.
We also de-potted an olive tree that I’d had for 7 years, planted her in a front bed and nervously pruned her back to encourage a fresh dome of foliage this season. Again… this is all new territory for me and I sense some “learnings” coming on.
A layer of forest floor mulch has been applied across all the beds, not quite as thickly as I’d like so more may be added. This was entirely inspired by wise Jenny Cooper, and I’m contemplating using it in my back garden this year instead of my usual pea straw.
Fingers are crossed for these sections of buxus to get their toes in and regenerate!
On examining my plant selection from autumn, I realised a few things.
The hakonechloa grasses were going to work perfectly, and it is likely I will be able to divide some of the unplanted clumps to help fill the gaps. As the largest investment in all this activity, I feel that they will inject the softness and seasonal flow I am after - reaching gentle shifting maturity by summer, throwing up airy neutral flowers then turning gold as they move into autumn. A cutback (which they are overdue now) would likely happen in early winter. My plan is to transplant a few Calamagrostis brachytricha that I have in the back garden amid the hakanechloa, to both break up the heights and add another texture.
However, next to these grasses, the zingy unchanging lomandra looked almost garish! I’d made a wrong move here and, with plenty of luck, I was able to exchange the healthy potted lomandra for prime specimens of Anemanthele lessoniana (NZ wind grass/gossamer grass) which are now dotted (still in pots sigh) through the deep long border against the northern fence line. With their long bronze-tinged tendrils, they grow to be 1 m x 1m, and by mass planting, I hope for a sea of softness punctuated by their gossamer pink-tinged blooms over summer. I chose these not only for their hardiness but also their ability to thrive in part-shade which this bed experiences with the fence blocking much of the midday sun. They are prone to seeding so quick smart seed head removal is needed!
Amid them, I will plant the two cotinus and…. well the jury is well and truly asleep with what else might find its way in there! My gut feeling is that I will start with what I have and watch as they mature, sensing ideas will more than likely spring forward as I see the plants progress.
The lone amelanchier I had intended to plant where the olive is, is instead destined for a new spot in the back garden…I think. I decided against it, wanting an evergreen option that could help support the beds in winter when the grasses are cut back.
Onward!
Provided links to plants are chosen by Julia with no bias - simply to connect with the best imagery and information to aid the reader on that plant.
No affiliate or sponsored links are included - please beware they may contain some seasonal information from other countries that differ from the one you are in!