Research Garden DesignBrowse photos, get design ideas & see the hottest plants
Photo by : Ann Summa .
This morning time , as I gargle my coffee cup in the kitchen sink , I looked through the windowpane , past the blue - and - snowy - tiled backsplash , and see crimson camellia that are almost as old as I am . My grandmother planted those bushes some 30 years ago , soon after she inherited this 1950s bungalow in Santa Monica , and she look out on them three times a solar day while she did the beauty . She ’d watch the blossoms grow , from bud to flower , and always clipped a few when they were quick for a vase .
When my husband , Henry , our boy Ben and I moved into the house last year , a few years after my grannie pass by off , one of the first matter we did was install a dishwashing machine . Now I ’m wondering if that modern widget was such a good theme . Will I ever make fourth dimension to admire a camelia bloom ?
I ’m so attached to this house and my memories of it , the weekends and Christmases and Thanksgivings and birthdays pass here , that it ’s hard for me to make any changes without feeling a stab of nostalgia , even compunction . Removing the carpet to reveal original hardwood floors was easy , but choosing a different draftsman , closer to the dish washer , in which to hive away my silverware was not . Even more hard is make up one’s mind what to do , or not to do , with my grandmother ’s garden . This nation has been in my home for about a hundred yr . My great - bully Aunt Lottie farm begonia on it . In my grandmother ’s heyday , it was a hobo camp of camellia , pink wine , and fruit trees so dense that we grandchildren used to play blot out - and - seek in it .
Of course , gardens are not static . As my grannie ’s wellness began to decline , so did her garden . And by the metre I moved in with my raw family , there was minuscule left : just a all-encompassing area of lawn , sprouting more weeds than grass , and my retentivity . The roses were still here , but without the path they used to line . They looked like a scraggly allée leading nowhere . The camelia were struggle , and failing , to cover the concrete wall behind them . The citrus tree were thrive , though , against one wall . And the magnolia had grown to majestic dimension , providing a number of wraith and a branch strong enough to plunk for Ben ’s swinging .
Neither Henry nor I had ever had a garden before , having expend much of our adult lives in Manhattan , and we were naively thrilled with the challenge . Although I did n’t want to disturb any of the existing plants , I could n’t hold off to add fresh 1 . So last outpouring we project ourselves into learn everything we could about the vines , shrub , herbs , trees , and bulbs that grow here in zone 10 . We started engraft whatever grabbed our fondness : some nasturtium here , morning time - glories there , a few butterfly bush , stephanotis to train up a terminal . It was our yr of uncovering , of getting to know our solid ground , our sensibility , our capabilities , and our limitations .
Our problems were never horticultural . The fourMelianthus majorfilled out nicely against the back wall . The sweet peas climbed the trellis we prop up against the garage . TheVerbena bonariensisdid indeed rise up above the small patch of French and English lavender . I even have Henry prune Grandma ’s guava Sir Herbert Beerbohm Tree with his new Fiskars bypass lopper , and it looked much serious for it . We tended a few lovely industrial plant . But we never made a garden . After all that try , we were still face with an overwhelming 93 by-63 understructure piece of flat land in fearsome need of cohesion and steering , a master plan .
Henry and I were mistrustful , though , of charter someone to take over completely . We want our garden to be our garden , a situation where we could play , experiment , and loosen — not some untouchable Design . While reconnoitre L.A. in lookup of story for this powder store , I had become familiar with the oeuvre of Barry Campion , and I love what she had done in other people ’s backyards , put - back , naturalistic gardens that managed to express their proprietor ' sense of panache . But I had always arrogate that hiring a professional meant giving up control . So when I learned that Campion ’s house offer unproblematic one - hour audience , for only $ 100 , I immediately called to determine one up .
When I spoke with Campion on the phone , she suggested that Henry and I first pull up a list of ideas and questions , and mark double in volume and magazine that appealed to us . During this exercise , we encounter that we need many of the same things : a ( smaller ) lawn for Ben , some wraith for the two red-header in the menage , a vegetable garden , a cutting garden , paths bordered by interesting plants , a secluded sitting area . Though it was clear that Henry would be unforced to scrap everything to achieve our goals , I want to mould around what my granny had lovingly planted so long ago .
A few weeks later Campion make it on our doorstep . Dressed in casual pant , work boots , and a T - shirt , she seemed more hand - in - the - stain nurseryman than haughty artiste . And she spent the first part of the meeting listening to what we wanted and asking about our site : its sun ( full ) , ground ( exceedingly compacted muck ) , and specific problems ( two beagle who pass water everywhere ) . Then , as we walked through the yard , she began making prompting . " The first matter I would do , " she extend diplomatically , " is soften the penitentiary look by planting hedge in front of those concrete wall . " Yes , great . I could n’t have agreed more . Her 2nd idea , however , was not what I wanted to hear . " This magnolia tree is found in a really strange spot , " she say mildly . " How would you feel about getting disembarrass of it ? " I quick defended my nan ’s choice : " It provides shade , and you may look out onto it from indoors . Besides , it ’s the only tree we have with limb handsome enough for Ben ’s swinging . " I understood Campion ’s position ( part of me even agreed ) but I was n’t ready to let go of what Henry call my " generational offspring . " We did , however , go ahead and hire her to draw up a plan .
Two weeks afterwards it arrived on my doorsill . I stopped everything I was doing , quickly get to the envelope , unfold the blueprint , and ravenously scanned the drawing . Ah , she want to thrive the patio area . Nice . And the lawn will end with a lovely hedge - line semicircle . Oh , and she put a logic gate here to keep the dogs take . That ’s smart . A rattling wind track with grown border on both sides , and a sitting area in the back . My vegetable plot must be here and I estimate that ’s the cutting garden . It was look great . And when I figured out that " ex " did n’t intend a tree diagram would be eliminated ( it stands for " exist " ) , I knew I ’d hired the right person for the task . Campion had created a glorious programme that not only work on around my grandmother ’s magnolia , but also actually made the Sir Herbert Beerbohm Tree the work over heart of the intact garden .
Henry and I have since meet with her again to go over every inch of the pattern . We can now visualize the meandering path through profuse , coolheaded - hued plantings , the cornstalk that will rise above the other vegetables in my potager , the hidden spots where we ’ll stretch out with the newspaper on Sunday good afternoon . We can visualise Ben chasing the beagle around the lawn , and almost hear the fountain gurgling at one end of the terrace . None of this be yet , nor will it for quite some time . We did n’t buy an clamant garden ; we buy a road map . There ’s still soil to rectify , an irrigation scheme to install , sod to undulate out , seeds to startle . We will do these things , little by little , when we have the time , and the money . Gardening is supposed to be about process , after all . And I can put off even longer the determination to uproot and move Grandma ’s rose .
