Marin IJ Articles

Making Something From Nothing: The Evolution of a Family Garden

Making Something From Nothing: The Evolution of a Family Garden

by Anita Jones

When designing a garden you are lucky if you get to start with a clean slate. Our Novato home was six years old when we moved in and although the slate wasn’t completely clean—we had mostly lawn, a few trees and some insignificant perennials—it was a relief not to have large areas of unwanted plants to rip out.

As first time homeowners, having never grown much beyond the obligatory potted philodendron years ago in college, ficus and ferns in apartments along the way, and roses in pots on the deck of the San Rafael townhouse we rented before buying, my husband and I were both novice gardeners. We were eager to lay brand new shovels to our very own soil.

October we moved in and work began in earnest the following March. My husband produced an aerial view map of the property to scale showing the footprint of the house and existing trees and shrubs. We used copies of this to experiment with various layouts. I signed up for Master Gardener training.

Our daughter was three years old when we moved in, so we needed a family garden—something for everyone with room to grow. Our goals included a play area with some lawn, herb and vegetable beds, flower beds, a child’s garden, shade, nooks for sitting and entertaining and a site saved for the future garden shed.

We focused our attention first on the rectangular, south facing back garden, simultaneously designing the play area, adjacent beds and the child’s garden. The site for one of the beds came with a dramatic backdrop: a row of five redwood trees that stand in our neighbor’s yard lining the 30-40 year-old grape stake fence we share. A priority in the back was shade. Most often we based our choice of trees on advice from people with garden conditions similar to ours who had thriving trees we liked. Among our choices are eastern redbud, crepe myrtle, Chinese scholar tree, Santa Rosa plum and red leaf Japanese maple. My husband built an arbor in the southwest corner and we planted a different vine at each post. The first summer—as we awaited the promised shade—I painted a large canvas with designs echoing those of the lawn furniture and this formed a fine canopy for shade.

The play area called for removing a 15' x 25' area of sod and replacing it with sand and a large redwood play structure. We relocated the sod to the front yard where we’d planned a large berm. Had we known then what we know now, we would never have done this. For cosmetic reasons the previous owner tilled the weeds and laid new sod over them. The weed seeds lay in wait beneath our new berm. Seven years later we are still fighting the transplanted weeds and sod.

In the north facing front garden, along the entire length of the split rail fence we share with our neighbor, a misguided honeysuckle vine had been forced to grow as a hedge. This was our biggest challenge months later when we decided to remove all of it, showcasing the handsome fence.

For vegetables and cutting flowers in the narrow east garden three triangular raised beds were built. The morning sun makes this the ideal place for our potting bench.

The west garden, also narrow, we call the living room. Here we planted an oval rose garden defined by an Idaho quartz path that leads through the gate to the front and in the other direction to the arbor. Redwood Adirondack chairs sit in a corner well shaded now by the ever-maturing Japanese maple. During the month of May the living room is transformed for our annual May Festival. We plant the maypole in the center of the rose garden and for a month the garden is alive with music and dancing children as they rehearse and perform traditional dances.

Planting was a backbreaking task. Every hole had to be carved out of the hardpan clay that covers the property and the soil amended. Over the years my husband has dug down deep enough to hit the dark, loamy soil that reminds us that this land was once a walnut orchard.

To complete our goals, three years ago my husband built the 8’ x 12’ shed. More of an artist studio, it houses a potters’ wheel, sink with running water, shelves and a workbench. Like families, gardens are ever changing, reflecting our whims and filling our needs. So much has gone into the making of our garden. We have to constantly remind ourselves to sit in the shade and let the garden give back to us.

This article appeared in the Marin Independent Journal on July 26, 2004.