Eight Ways to Improve the Design of an Existing Garden Border
I visited a garden recently which was quite pleasant and had been partly professionally designed.
And I tried to work out why my terrible dissatisfaction crept in. You must forgive me – the truculence seems built in. It rightly alienates a large number of people. But perhaps it does have its uses. Besides consoling other truculent people by reassuring them they are not alone.
After the visit I asked myself what was missing and what did I want to see in that border? Overall, it was a bit random, with lots of different plants – and even though it gave me more of those than I wanted, it somehow offered less.
There was a clue, perhaps, in one exciting combination of plants, which sang together. I wanted more of that, but I also wanted it on a larger scale, rather than a sort of accidental blip. I thought I ought to try to articulate how I try to get closer to what I’m after, here at Veddw.
Now, I am not a garden designer. And I work on this in my own garden without conceptualising about it. And I’ve never been taught. So it takes some working out, to put this process into words. And it clearly is only one possible approach.
Let’s start simple and see if that helps me get behind my process:
Here is the Wild Garden.
I pick it for my purpose here not for its history or wildness, but for the planting. And it has one major season, late summer, so this one should be simple. There is one major element, crocosmia, which I believe is crocosmia x crocosmiiflora but I can’t be sure because it was a gift. And it comes in two slightly different shades of colour, an orange and a slightly redder. I do enjoy what you might call variety in sameness.
So – here’s what I do in my effort to get it to please me:
ONE.
I go and look at this place daily when it’s in flower.
I am always looking first for drama, that being one of my favourite things. I want a wow. Maybe not always and everywhere, but often. The brilliant orange goes a good way towards this. The scabious arrives in August – native, and making itself at home where it has lived for years before us. It seeds through the bed, adding a nice touch of contrast. Good.
TWO
Then I consider how well the colour is working through the whole area.
What I might need to add or subtract. It helps to have what may be called a ‘ground cover’. Not quite the right word – what I mean is a plant that weaves its way through other plants, bringing the scene together. In this case that’s the crocosmia – doing rather more than weaving, but certainly bringing things together.
The orange is dominant. But there is also some rosebay willowherb, (bottom left, below) especially at the beginning of flowering and I note that I like the orange and purply pink together.
I’d like more of that. Slightly later, some mallow (Malva sylvestris) arrives, in quite a pale pink, but it has the same buzz for me – I love the combination. So I need more pink, I think.
What do we think of the ragwort? That’s the yellow flower in the middle here:
At the moment I am liking the sharp contrast it brings, so it can stay. It is controversial because it is poisonous in hay, but we have no animals near and make no hay. It’s a British native, so seeds itself.
THREE
Then I consider balance and repetition.
I don’t want one part of the place dominating in a lopsided way. Hm. Well, one dubious thing in the Wild Garden on that basis is the large white daisy. I think too large, though not too white – the white again adds a refreshing sharpness. But it’s really too big a blob (and it collapses sometimes). I think it ought to go. It’s not just that it’s big, but there is no bright white anywhere else in this part of the garden at this time. That is what has saved it so far, but really, that should be its death knell. If I’m to have white, I need more and I need it scattered.
Looking at it with friends yesterday, we all decided it must go.
If there were several small white plants (repetition!) I might feel ok about that, maybe.
FOUR
Heights. Here I really don’t want things sticking up above what is a rather flat planting.
This connects with balance and repetition. Tom Stuart-Smith adds conifers sticking up above flat planting. I’m not sure about that but I get the possibility: it’s ok if there are enough sticky up things. Otherwise and in different borders varied heights are desirable and bring their own challenges. But there are some sticky up things in the Wild Garden which should go: mostly the remnants of the earlier feature of the Wild Garden, loads of Martagon lilies.
The remnants should go – but they seed! Hmm – difficult decisions.
FIVE
Added/extra interest.
A visitor said last week “It’s the small details which count.” And this part of the garden has what you might describe that way. There are three ‘memorial stones’ – which preserve different names some local places have had, with the dates of the names.
SIX
By added interest I also include detail in the planting.
In any planting I do, I want and add a variety of plants, so that while there’s always impact at a distance, there is also detail to absorb my interest close up.
This border was originally ancient pasture and has not been ploughed or dug. So there are, all through the seasons, wild plants, flowers and weeds.
SEVEN
Think about the framing
– you may be stuck with a wall or hedge already there. But it may be possible to add a frame of your own to set the planting off and, with something which may look a little wild (as in the Wild Garden here) that makes it look intentional and sharper. The Wild Garden has the Yew pillars and the seat in the path above.
EIGHT
Ask a friend.
You always need another eye on your planting. (And overall design and landscaping as well, but that’s another story.)
In this case, my friend Sue, noting the great pink and orange combination, suggested Japanese anemones. Which is spot on. And in a few years (sigh – they take ages to establish) we may get there! Ah – wherever there is.
There may be more.
But that’s what I can articulate so far, with this example. Let me know if it’s useless or if you’d like more of this kind of thing?
You may wonder why I chose this particular and rather unusual part of the garden. Simply because it has one main season. I try to get other places at Veddw to perform for six months. And that is even harder.