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Every time I walk past the 75-year-old
birdbath in our garden here in southern Vermont, I recall when
I first saw that cast-stone ornament as a boy in my late grandmother's
garden near Oyster Bay, Long Island. Itsat in the center of a
boxwood-edged rose garden that was crisscrossed with crushed-oyster-shell
paths. While visitors to our garden don't know what associations
I hold with that birdbath (right), they can tell that it's old,
that it anchors the broad curve of a hosta bed, and that birds
do surely visit it. Objects such as this, rife with history and
meaning, make our garden feel personal, anchored, and peaceful.
While design elements and plant choices contribute to making
a garden feel comfortable and coherent, the restrained use of
ornaments and furniture plays an equally important role in creating
inviting and distinctive areas within that garden. At the same
time, carefully chosen objects underpin the many moods and feelings
of different parts of a garden to create spaces in which family
and guests will want to linger.
Our old birdbath reminds me of
my childhood, and an English staddle stone (bottom right photo)
in our garden reminds my wife, Mary, of hers. She grew up on
a farm in the north Cotswold hills of England where, until the
mid-1950s, her father and brother used a circle of 16 such stones,
shaped like 32-inch-high mushrooms, with boards stretched across
their tops, to support drying sheaves of wheat or barley. When
a friend, Theodora Berg, gave Mary the 100-year-old English staddle
stone several years ago, Mary momentarily lost her composure
at the sight of this reminder of her childhood. A few days later,
we set it at the beginning of a stepping-stone path that leads
into our spring garden. Being an agricultural artifact, it fits
appropriately into our rural setting and now draws visitors across
the lawn to the path.
One of the first areas Mary and
I developed in what has become a 11/2-acre garden around our
200-year-old farmhouse was a 50-foot-square garden. Its center
is directly in line with our front door to the north and a 100-year-old
apple tree-a reminder of my childhood growing up on an orchard
in Connecticut-to its south. Four brick paths bisect the square,
meeting at right angles in a 12-foot-diameter circle in the center.
One day years ago, Mary and I were in an art gallery in Vermont
and found a modestly priced 18-inch plaster vase in the form
of the head of the mythical character Jason. We placed a cast-stone
pedestal in the center of the brick circle and set Jason atop
it facing our front door. A handsome sculpture on a finely crafted
pedestal, Jason draws visitors into the garden (photo at left).
At the same time, he reminds us of the two months we spent on
the island of Naxos in the Aegean on less than a shoestring shortly
after we were married.
Furniture invites lingering. Once people are drawn into our
garden, we want them to be able to sit comfortably in places
from which they will look at attractive but different views.
We placed two old teak chairs, now silver-gray and dotted with
lichen, in our pool garden to make it easy to see and listen
to the water bubble up through an old Danby-marble wellhead.
Another weathered teak bench went under a rustic grape arbor
in the herb garden. We also set a bench and two chairs under
the gazebo at the bottom of the garden so guests can sit comfortably,
even during a light rain, and look down a straight lawn path
between two mixed borders (opening photo). But nowhere can we
see more than one set of furniture at a time, so the garden doesn't
look too busy.

BENCHES AND CHAIRS ENCOURAGE CLOSE UP VIEWING
OF THE PLANTINGS (D ON THE SITE PLAN)
To create a greater sense of permanence, we set furniture
on stone, brick, pea stone, or the wooden floor of the gazebo,
but rarely on lawn. Furniture set on lawn feels temporary and
has to be moved for mowing. Most often, we set it on stone or
brick surfaces within the garden that are connected to a nearby
path. In that way, visitors sit nearly surrounded by plants,
which are kept at an appropriate distance from the furniture.
We set low plants between the paving edge and the rest of the
garden so guests can see into the beds; a hedge or taller plants
go behind the furniture so guests feel supported from behind.
For example, when we first started planting a pair of shrub and
perennial borders 12 years ago, our son, Nate, suggested we make
a sitting area on a slightly raised spot at the north end of
one of the borders. So, near an evergreen hedge, we created a
bluestone-paved area that would be roomy enough for a 5-foot
bench, three or four chairs, and a coffee table (photo above).
Now when guests come, we often put a bouquet on the table and
sit there in the late afternoon.
If they're staying for dinner, we then walk across the lawn
and along a stepping-stone path through the top section of the
other border to get to our outdoor dining area, under mature
ash and maple trees. There, we used bluestone again to pave an
area large enough to accommodate a teak dining table, six chairs,
and two large terra-cotta pots planted with an orange-pink coleus
(Solenostemon scutellarioides 'Alabama Sunset') (photo below)

Repetition fosters unity. To further encourage familiarity
and a sense of unity, we've limited our choice of furniture to
teak (but always with the SmartWood certification so we know
that it's made of plantation-grown wood, rather than from native
trees). While the design of the chairs and benches changes from
area to area, we use teak because we can leave it out in all
weather during the gardening season, because it ages to a silvery
gray-the same color as our house-and because over time gray lichens
grow on it, adding to the feeling that the garden is established
and settled.
There is one exception. Last year, Mary painted all four of my
grandmother's folding metal chairs royal blue. We put two in
the sitting area at the top of one of the borders and the other
two in the herb garden. These striking blue chairs look terrific
against the greens and grays of the garden and add an
unexpected punch of color.

We also limit our containers to terra-cotta pots in varying forms.
By repeating the one material, we underpin a settled, familiar
feeling. In the herb garden, for example, we set out a row of
24-inch-tall narrow terra-cotta pots called long Toms against
the arborvitae hedge, then plant each with a different annual
herb (right photo). We fill other terra-cotta pots with Fuchsia
'Billy Green' and Helichrysum petiolare 'Limelight' and set them
at both ends of the bench under the grape arbor.
Again, there is one exception: For just a bit of added color,
we placed a royal-blue ceramic pot on the pea-stone path to pick
up the color of the nearby blue chairs. In another part of the
garden, we set one unplanted 42-inch-high Columbian terra-cotta
urn at the beginning of a pea-stone path and its mate 40 feet
along the path to draw people down the length of this infrequently
visited area at the west edge of the garden (photo, below).
We also repeat other materials throughout the garden to foster
coherence. Because black locust (Robinia pseudoacacia) is native
to our part of Vermont, and because the locals tell me that a
black locust in the ground lasts one day longer than a rock,
we've used 6-inch-diameter, 8-foot-long black locust posts with
their bark still on in any number of ways. They serve as gate
posts and as supports for chain swags dangling from one post
to the next to create a gentle separation between two garden
areas. Buried 2 feet in the ground, they
form 6-foot- high portals in a break in a yew hedge. We even
use the same posts horizontally as 3-inch-high steps by setting
half their diameter into the ground. We keep the bark on to establish
a visual relationship between naturally occurring locust trees
bordering the meadow and locust posts in the garden. By repeating
this material throughout, we create continuity as well as a reassuring
link between the garden and the surrounding landscape.
Objects in the garden are a personal expression of the gardener.
Mary and I try to use them with restraint to keep our garden
from getting too busy with things. And, most of all, we cherish
these furnishings and ornaments because they make us and our
guests feel at home in our outdoor rooms. |