Wattle, or hurdle fencing is a traditional garden or livestock enclosure made from either willow or hazelwood. Last week we took delivery of a forty foot long container of Belgian made fencing. Though I am making a point of shopping my own country, I am especially attracted to Belgian garden ornament. Rob says the Belgian climate and topography is a lot like the Midwest. My most favorite landscape photographer Lynn Geesamon has photographed all over the world. Her images of Belgium so strongly resonate with me, as I do think they remind me of my native landscape. Some of her images can be seen at www.edelmangallery.com.
A garden ornament does need to look like it belongs to the garden in which it is placed. It takes some doing to bring these twig structures from their place to mine, but it is worth it. They are heavy, chunky and sturdy-and beautifully constructed. Each five by six foot panel weighs 100 pounds-substantial. We buy peeled cedar fence poles from a company in the upper peninsula of Michigan. This material has a very local feel.
These panels are made of hazelwood branches with the bark intact. This makes a very long-lived and weather resistant panel. This natural material is friendly to climbing plants. There are plenty of places vines to get a foothold. They are such a great backdrop to any green living thing. The twig brown color compliments any planting scheme.
The woven branches have a great texture, and cast good shadows. The surface is lively and warm. Burt told Rob he sold Italian shoes for 25 years, before opening his twig panel business. It is easy for me to see why he would do this; it must give him great satisfaction to be making objects that celebrate the beauty of the natural world. Rhododendron root furniture, log furniture, twig trellissing-all of these things have a primeval appeal.
They are dense enough to provide great screening. Some places that require screening do not have room for plants; these panels have a very slight profile . I imagine they would look great installed between a pair, or a run of trees.
The twig boxes they make are down to earth charming. I usually line them with a galvanized sheet metal liner for longevity. They would dress down an ivy topiary, or dress up a planting of geraniums and strawberries.
Positioned with the twigs in the vertical, the panels have a different quality about them-more sculptural and sinuous. I had a client tell me she loves the beauty of ordinary materials. Things people make of ordinary materials can be anything but ordinary. A material like this is just waiting for an inspired placement.
The little panels would make great edging for an herb garden. Four panels lashed together would make a box fit for a giant rosemary, or 4 eggplants. They would be great for keeping my corgis out of a treasured planting. This work reminds me that there are so many natural materials around me that could be put to use or ornament in my garden. I have only to see them. Seeing the beauty in ordinary things-I am thinking about this today.
For the better part of six years I did nothing to this yard except bark the existing perennial beds, and mow the grass. It took all my energy to handle my work-or so it seemed. I am embarrassed to say that somewhere along the line I got an anonymous postcard in the mail: “It is hard to believe that a person whose career is landscape would have weeds six feet tall in her front yard”. No matter the delivery, the person had a point.
But perhaps even more importantly, I was ignoring the fact that whatever I did at home would need time to come of age-and that perhaps I would want to still be around to see that. Planning my own landscape was agonizingly slow. I had no problem designing for others; I was a wreck designing for myself. Slow turned out to be fine; who can do everything at once anyway? Getting started-that was the key.
The one hundred Hicks yews across the west and down the north side came first. Given the slope of my property from the south to the north, time would prove to be an essential element. The hedge is 4 feet tall on the south side, and nine feet tall on the north side-but every one of them is level with the horizon. This hedge took eight years to grow in.
The boxwood was even slower growing; the 18″-24″ plants I put in the ground were already seven years old when I planted them. The shaggy densiformis yews are the newest evergreen addition; they have only been in four years. I like all this evergreen; I can successfully maintain it. I knew I could never devote the time needed to a big perennial garden-why come home and be frustrated about what isn’t done? Two giant blocks of Limelight hydrangeas, and 6 pots of flowers give me perennial garden pleasure, in a manageable form.
I planted this city-mini allee of Yellow Butterflies magnolias for Buck-he loves yellow. The boxwood is a big evergreen groundcover. The petals falling on this boxwood is one of my garden’s best spring moments. The mini-boxwood strips in the foreground-this year’s landscape project. The slope of the ground here made it difficult to mow the grass. The magnolias have grown considerably, and the shade they cast was not optimal for lawn. Wall stone behind them retains the soil, and in a few years, will be invisible.
The magnolias were planted to frame the view to the side yard. It is hard arrange a long view on a city lot, making visual use of the neighbor’s mature elm adds much to the illusion of distance.
The big Yew hedge divides my public landscape, from the house landscape. The big pots are centered in front of big panels of windows; I have good views from inside. The ground is carpeted with herniaria glabra-rupturewort. This plant grows like thyme, but is much more water tolerant.
