Philip’s Garden Blog

Honeybees and bumblebees, hummingbirds and cedar waxwings, books in the teahouse and friends on the lawn, wildflowers and poppies dancing in the sun: this was the year in my garden.

A few years ago I decided to remove a number of perennial shrubs in my San francisco garden to recreate the feeling of the meadow garden I had known as a boy. My aunt and grandmother, whom we called Joan and Grammie, lived above a cove on the wild Mendocino coast north of San Francisco. My father one morning recounted a dream he had about his sister Joan where she was growing plants on a clothesline. I can well believe that if Joan had wished to have a clothesline garden, she would have achieved spectacular results. Joan did not let drought, deer or fierce ocean winds deter her. She remarked that in a garden such as hers the law of averages applied. If some of the cuttings survived and some of the seeds sprouted and managed to live despite the odds ranged against them, then all was good. When tamping the soil over a seed or around a cutting she would say “Now live and be happy”, and I suppose this sentiment also applied to people as well, for we had many happy times.

In this section of my garden which recieves dapped light from tall tree ferns Chrysanthemum paludosum and forget me nots ( Myosotis sp.)”knit” a border with poppies and wildflowers about to emerge.
 My aunt was proof that a garden need not cost anything at all in terms of monetary outlay. All was needed was an inventive and positive approach. We collected lupine seeds up and down the coast and a treat was an expedition to our “favorite nursery”, a ghost town appropriately enough called Casper, located above the cliffs. Here plants popular in the early 20th century such as Love in a mist( Nigella sp.) and Shirley poppies (Papaver rhoeas) had naturalized with native wildflowers.

It was just these informal effects of shimmering color and loose form that I set out to create, in a small hilltop city garden, using the planting method of seeds and naturalization. By closely observing plants that have naturalized in the wild, and giving them a similar situation, the garden began to behave as a wildflower meadow. Over these last few years the wildflowers and old fashioned cultivars have self sown and created the dense and diverse tapestry we first enjoyed on those wild gardens perched above the Mendocino cliffs.

Stepping stones collected from the cove and hauled to a few gardens since create a path from the lower to the upper garden.

“The Teahouse” is too modest to live up to its name, but it takes its tradition from a “Teahouse” my twin brother Patrick and I built for my aunt. Built of driftwood hauled up from the cove, that teahouse was inaugurated by a tea ceremony where my aunt and her friends all came in costume! Joan wore her Chinese brocaded coat and jade and Patrick and I wore the vintage karate jackets, bleached for the occasion, that she used to wear while cooking. A grand time was had by all!
The current Teahouse incarnation is used every day as a place to read a book or muse in the shade. Facing Southwest, it commands a borrowed view over the city to Twin Peaks. After the above image was taken, sweet peas climbed the plum tree with a heady fragrance.

Despite the loose, naturalistic form this is still a small city garden, so foxgloves which self sow in the front of the border or Clarkia in the lawn are dug up and transplanted to where I feel they would be set off best. Recently I gathered seeds from many of the plants such as Shirley poppies to ensure a continuous bloom for future seasons.

Once the poppy seedheads have dried, vents open below the crown. I gather the dried poppies and place in a paper bag with the seedheads down. The tiny black poppy seeds exit from the vents. I then store the seeds in envelopes labeled with the name to be planted in the Spring.

I have not shown all the aspects of my garden: the area we grow berries, strawberries and herbs, the garden of symbolic cairns and rocks, the view of the city beyond.

 I appreciate every type of garden, from a terrace garden filled with poetry, gardens with rare specimens such as Pinus montezumae, an enchanted pond grotto only achieved by hard work, a celebratory victory garden, sidewalk gardens which enhance the community, gardens of art and Martians, gardens which bring joy and change the world and so many more.

And so progresses the rhythm of the seasons, where in every turn is a new activity, something new to consider and the delight of the promise to come.

I would love to share one of my favorite neighborhood walks.  My family has a house on Depot Hill, above the village of Capitola. This neighborhood of cottages, some from the 19th century, is perched above the Monterey Bay. Surfers lay on their boards and sea kelp drifts in the calm water below the cliffs. The bay extends in a great arc southwards to the Monterey peninsula. The Monterey mountains are a purple silhouette against the sky and at night the bay is ringed by glittering lights.

After lunch in the garden we always take a walk, first to the cliffs. There is almost no automobile traffic as there are just a few dead end roads on the hill. Perfect for strolling in the middle of the street.

Grand Avenue which runs along the cliffs has no traffic at all as parts of it have tumbled into the bay below! The cliffs are are always eroding, but for now Grand Avenue is a pedestrian walkway, with benches placed along the few blocks to enjoy the view.

This border is graced by sculptures fashioned from driftwood dragged up the cliffs from the rocky shore below.

Turning left we come across this colorful garden.

This cottage was once the minister’s house for the church next door.

        On Cliff Avenue, a trumpet vine (Campsis radicans)  creates a spectaular display.

One of my favorite houses, I have always appreciated its tidy and old-fashioned quality.

                       

 

The village seen here from Cliff Avenue was a great place to watch fireworks being set off from the pier.  Depot Hill with its quiet streets, cottages with front porches, and flowering gardens with picket fences has such a nostalgic air; a kind of perpetual summerland, where every day is the Fourth of July.

Thank you for taking this stroll with me.

Happy Fourth of July!