how to make a garden (part 2)

so we've already asked our garden some questions- climate, aspect, soil type and condition. we can improve the soil type and condition to suit our needs but this will take some time and a lot of effort. we could even work a little on the climate by creating 'heat-sinks' and microclimates as we have in our garden. - in some cases it can be as simple as painting a north facing wall black, or providing a little shelter from a prevailing or cold wind.
but your aspect you're stuck with.
ours is northerly, which down south, is good.

that established, we ask ourselves: who is going to use the garden, and how?

the citizens of the rara republic all have varying needs and desires. as do their guests and other creatures who visit this garden on their daily forage. calix has a little trike and would dearly love somewhere flat to ride it. he's also into moving small parcels of soil around the garden, diggin and raking. so he needs to have a little patch all of his own- somewhere in a little bit of shade, but sunny enough where he can grow something. papa imagines long summer evenings grilling meat in the garden. he also quite fancies the idea of picking fresh veges to make a salad, but he doesn't want to be a slave to the garden. mama wants to garden. after years of gardening for other people this is her chance to plant something other than an annual and be around to see its fruit. she imagines plenty of herbs to make tissanes for her family, sweet organic veges, and plenty of little spots to sit and contemplate. the chickens, as former forest dwellers, need a tree, some shade, a bit of space, some dust and plenty of food and in return they give us eggs and a beautifully blended organic fertilizer.

the next question you need to give a lot of thought is: how much time do i have to spend in my garden? because despite popular belief, there is no such thing as a low maintenance garden, unless you're talking about a piece of concrete.

my mind's eye recalls many images of my mum in the garden. the hairdos vary according to the decade, but she was always on hand and knee, seemingly in prayer. for her, 8 hours a week in the garden was a religion, she did it more frequently than she went to church. but for me, as a child, working in the garden was a chore. it wasn't until i was older, when i appreciated the importance of 'time to think' that i appreciated the dull monotony of gardening. because that's what it seems- weeding, raking, wandering backwards and forwards behind a mower.... for me, now it's zen. i clear my head of clutter and concentrate on the task. and after a very small while i am calm. but wind the clock back several years and i'd be cursing that broom and dreaming of using it like a pony, galloping off with my mates...

once you've catered to everyone's needs, finally you can down to the nitty gritty of pen to paper.
gardens are filled with symbolism, as we use shapes that are found within nature to worship and admire. as gardeners we are all part-time pagans- worshiping the sun, following the seasons; and at the bottom of every garden you'll find at least one faerie (if you look hard enough). as a designer i like putting pen to paper, then crayon or watercolour as i wander the many paths in my mind for inspiration. other people need to see the shape on the land. one method my mum swears by (and my mum is a very able and creative gardener) is laying a garden hose on the ground and moving it about until the bed's shape materialises before your eyes. more often than not, you'll find your garden beds' shapes take the form of the spiral (or a part of it), a powerful symbol repeated constantly in nature and reverred for centuries. or perhaps, if you're a more formal person, you'd like straight lines and sharp angles. or, if you're a bit like me, you like to dip your toes in both ponds and combine all of nature's simple geometry.

when creating a garden bed it's best to not make the bed any deeper than 60cm (a comfortable reach). or, if you can access it from both sides, 120cm. this avoids having to step on the soil and risk damaging the soil structure. of course, if you fancy digging to alleviate the compaction, by all means, make those beds as deep as you fancy! but sometimes, you just can't avoid it. so don't worry so much. your garden is going to be a thing of beauty and sometimes beauty beats practicality in the paper/rock/scissors war of design.

when creating our garden i knew the shapes i wanted to incorporate. my list of specifications were quite stringent. in the area closest the house i wanted to use spirals to symbolise the sea's waves unfolding. it needed to be paved because, as an area of high traffic it needs to stand up to long winter rainy periods, and many dancing summer feet... also, as it's where our outdoor kitchen is going to be, all the culinary herbs of the mediterranean will be growing 'wild', scattered about. in maori culture the spiral, or koru, symbolises newness, birth and development.
in the other half, the 'vege' garden, i wanted to combine the essence of the french potager with the principals of permaculture: 4 raised beds (to allow for crop rotation) alligned for points of the compass (which also represent the elements, earth, fire, air and water) encircled to create a safe and nurturing environment.
we wanted fruit, plenty of it. so the obvious solution was to create espalier, the ancient art of pruning trees to grow along a flat surface. this way we could accomodate our apricot, apples, pear and nectarine.
honouring the wild aspect and wishing to create a whole ecosystem we've chosen species of plants that encourage preditory insects into the garden, letting nature take care of itself.
we've also chosen heirloom vegetables, the seed collected by hand and passed on through the generations.

have i painted the picture yet? have you painted your own?


(please excuse shoddy copy & the fact i can't seem to rotate it!)

xx
humble gardener and mama b