Today is Garden Bloggers’ Bloom Day, hosted by Carol at May Dreams Gardens. I don’t have a lot of flowers, but I am enjoying some orange hawkweed, which I hope will pop up in more places in the long grass this summer and next year.
Tomorrow is Garden Bloggers’ Foliage Follow Up, hosted by Pam at Digging. If grass counts as “foliage,” this is my contribution as well.
You can read more about our backyard in Stuttgart, Germany, here.
To scroll through larger versions of the pictures, click on ‘Continue reading’ below and then on any thumbnail in the gallery.
In a field by the river
my love and I did stand. . . .
She bid me take life easy,
as the grass grows on the weirs. . .
“Figurines de pierre (stone) dans un potager,” between 1859 and 1910, by Eugène Trutat, via Bibliothèque de Toulouse Commons on flickr.
Unfortunately, the old image is not very clear.
The location of the vegetable garden was not noted, but the Bibliothèque assigns it to the Germany album. Trutat took a large number of pictures while traveling in the Rhineland-Palatinate region in the early 1920s.
My question here in Stuttgart is a common one: “how to make a garden without much gardening?”
Our backyard is an enclosed strip of lawn that runs the length of the back of the house and wraps halfway around on both sides. There are two large trees and a concrete patio outside the center door. In one far corner is a small, oval-ish planting bed with a few shrubs and perennials and a lot of weeds. About 5′ beyond the fence are mature woods.
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And when I say ‘lawn,’ I mean moss, clover, dandelions, plantains, buttercups, lawn daisies, sprouted trees, an assortment of other low creeping plants, and some grass.
I have no desire to dig the planting beds (or buy the trees and shrubs) that would improve this dull (except for the woods) space. We want to spend our time in Europe getting out and about.
But I do want to have a garden that’s a little more pretty aesthetically satisfying to sit in during the long daylight of summer.
My solution (at least for this year) has taken inspiration from several different sources.
1) The “wonky” log cabin patchwork pillows I made for the living room.
2) The front lawn of the 18th century schloss (palace) of Hohenheim (near our house in the southern suburbs of Stuttgart) — it’s part of the University of Hohenheim, which specializes in agriculture and natural sciences.
The grass is cut short, except for five or six unmown islands.
No doubt, the university is also trying to add some pattern and texture with low effort and cost.
3) The public “hell” strips and other intermediary spaces along streets and sidewalks in nearby towns. They have been left uncut and have grown into really beautiful urban meadows. The area in the photo above was sprinkled with blue forget-me-nots a week ago.
4) Paths and patterns cut through long grass — and labyrinths. Here and here are a couple of images of a garden by Mien Ruys.
This is what I did about a week ago:
Using my antique reel mower and some clippers, I cut patterns through the grass, which has only been mowed once this spring.
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I just “free-handed” it, starting with a patchwork-type design on the north side.
Then, I mowed a border around the patio and made a short path to the back gate.
On the south side, my main concern was the planting bed, the shape of which does not even rise to that of a kidney.
First, I mowed around it, enlarging it and cleaning up the edges (weeding it will come one of these days — it’s not really in our line of sight when we sit on the patio). Then I matched it by making a similar shape on the other end of the same side of the yard, under one of the trees.
I put our old table and chairs there (painting them is another chore for the future).
Then, I mowed two curvy paths out from each oval, so they cross in the center.
Then, I sat down to rest and admire my work.
Admittedly the results are, let’s say, “understated.” But I have made my mark and I’m happier about the place.
The wheelbarrow is entirely ornamental.
For the rest of the warm months, I just have to mow the paths from time to time. I may plant some bulbs in the grass in the fall. And I’ve thought of wrapping the tree trunks in fairy lights.
In late fall (or should I do it in late winter?), I will need to knock down the long grass — which I’m afraid will involve me and a pair of long shears. There is always something. . . .
In Swabia on the first of May a tall fir-tree used to be fetched into the village, where it was decked with ribbons and set up; then the people danced round it merrily to music. The tree stood on the village green the whole year through, until a fresh tree was brought in next May Day.
— Sir James Frazer, from Chapter 10, The Golden Bough