Taking the Hill

Originally, it was a mountain of tangled blackberries – home to snakes, thorns and the occasional bunny.

The brambles were replaced with raised blueberry beds – that fried in the summer heat and invited Bermuda grass, morning glory weeds and few blueberries.

Last fall, the bed frames were demolished to begin anew.

The vision was an extension of the adjacent California-themed garden.

The challenge: that bed sits near the top of the garden. When we get big winter rains, the water passes through and collects where the raised planters were until our clay soil will finally absorb it.

The solution: Mounds. Hills. Berms. Whatever you want to call them. They are raised high enough that the soil drains well.

Last fall, I brought in fresh soil and compost, covered them with cardboard, another layer of soil on top, and a final layer of mulch to let them “cook” over the winter, planting only those things that truly required fall planting. Maria and I created paths between the bed sections for weeding and planting access without compressing the soil.

And this spring, I filled the new beds to the brim with California natives and the Mediterranean standouts that I have long coveted.

The result exceeds my expectations already.

I know that I have installed more than the bed can handle long-term. But crowded beds ensure cooler roots in our hot, dry summers. And things can always be divided and moved in coming seasons.

The new beds are already bountiful and thriving in the conditions created for them.

Native Ceanothus, Poppy, Erysimum capitatum (“Western Wallflower”), California Fuchsia, Penstemon eatonii “Firecracker Penstemon,” Delta Sunflower, and Salvia spathacea  “Hummingbird Sage.”

Mediterranean garden favorites: Crape Myrtle, Cerinthe major, Verbascum, Lion’s Tail, Blue Fescue, Verbena, Gaura…

And a little happy Penstemon and Geum thrown in for good measure.

It’s not to say that the Bermuda grass and morning glory weeds have not attempted a comeback. But it is just so much more enjoyable to do battle with them when surrounded with this beauty.

Lesson: Never be afraid to start anew.

Like our friends Bodie, 14

and Summer, 15 –

both beginning new chapters in their glory years because kindhearted people believed that their best beauty was still within.

“There will come a time when you believe everything is finished. Yet that will be the beginning.” ~ Louis L’Amour

 

Unity

When a group of gardeners first answered the call to help create the Homeward Bound Memorial Garden, the design included a dozen or so beds, each devoted to a specific species or type of plant.

There were planned beds for iris, viburnum, daylilies, white roses, ornamental grasses, succulents, perennials, and even a one devoted to container plants. It was a design born of the individual interests of the volunteer gardens who would be dedicating their time but lacked something essential: unity.

The garden got underway based on this design, but as some of the original volunteers fell away, those of us who remained started shaping a different vision.

Through trial and error, we learned what worked best in the clay soil and the Valley’s extremes of heat and cold without a great deal of babysitting as the garden does not have daily keepers.

Native plants began to play a larger role along with drought-tolerant plants suited for our Mediterranean-like climate.

Gradually, divides of successful combinations were repeated throughout the garden giving the disjointed patchwork needed cohesiveness.

The repetition brought order to the chaos of the unconnected beds. Patterns of color, shapes and sizes bridged divides and created balance without the need for unnatural barriers or symmetry.

Now, species are echoed throughout with an overarching theme of greys, silvers, blues, purples, mauves, and white that perfectly support dashes of vibrant seasonal color.

There is also a better sense of scale with plants relating to others around them and the trees and statues that form the garden’s bones.

Foundational plants provide year-round color and texture: artemisia, lamb’s ear, ceanothus, barberry, agastache, lavatera, iris, lavender, Santa Barbara daisy, sage, yarrow, fescue, penstemon, rosemary, and grasses.

Spring bulbs, summer splashes of dahlias, California fuschia, coreopsis, annual and woolly sunflower, and glorious fall displays of aster and Mexican marigold ensure that the garden is interesting all year long.

The result of is a greater sense of harmony: every color in the rainbow is represented at some point in the season, yet the beds flow and fit together, and the whole is strengthened.

What a world this would be if we applied the same principles outside the garden.