ROUGH AND MILNE

from Abode Issue 54 - September / October 2021

FOR YOUR HOME & DIRECTORY

a little bit

of bush in the backyard

TONY MILNE FROM ROUGH AND MILNE PONDERS THE INCREDIBLE OUTDOOR PARADISE WE ALL SHARE AND HOW TO INCORPORATE IT INTO OUR OWN PATCH OF WILDERNESS.

TONY MILNE Rough & Milne Landscape Architects

Iam writing this sitting in the bar at the Sherwood, with an overlook of Lake Wakatipu and Walter Peak beyond. I’m in Queenstown for work, not skiing like the majority of those around me. I quite like the idea of skiing, not fussed on the administration associated with such. More shoulders than hips, dance floor too.

Apparently hip action is also useful for efficient running, but that hasn’t stopped me from enjoying trail running. There is something magic about tackling the tracks and trails laced throughout Aotearoa. As landscape architects, we are also very fortunate that our project work takes us to many remote and wonderful places. This makes you appreciate what a fantastic fragment of Gondwana we have ended up with.

Imagine a slice of this in your own backyard. At our place we have managed to sneak in a couple of lancewoods, some scleranthus and a libertia or two. Not exactly plants seen growing together in nature, but nonetheless a likeable trio from our native plant palette. I’m still trying to win over neighbour Joy – she isn’t overly fussed on the lancewoods.

Several years ago, I designed a small courtyard for Snowy Peak in Christchurch, onto which the café and bar opened. The idea was to create an abstraction of an experience or memory of a landscape we have had.

By recreating a composition of plants, in combination with materials from that source of inspiration, we created a slice of Westland temperate broadleaf forest. Aggregate used in the concrete terrace was sourced from the Whataroa River, as were the rocks and stones that formed the small stream.

The source of the stream was a stylised sluice buried within the bush, thrusting out over a fallen giant of the forest. In this case, rather than a kahikatea trunk, a line of recycled and sandblasted railway sleepers standing soldier course. The sluice: a nod to the recent cultural history of those panning for a fortune. Kamahi, pate¯, broadleaf, koromiko, bush flax, ferns and even sphagnum moss filled the walled courtyard. Verdant, it was a pocket of the West Coast bush too.

I haven’t been back for a while, so my description may have tempered with time. The funny thing is, most people probably saw it as another garden, more interested in their horopito infused tea or what Willow and Peaches were or weren’t eating at the next table.

Rather than endeavouring to recreate a slice of the great outdoors, another approach is to borrow one. The Japanese call this shakkei, the Chinese jièjı ˘ng. In doing this, you look to incorporate background landscape into the composition of the garden. This is very effective when your setting provides for this. Much easier in Curio Bay than Juniper Place, Burnside.

At Timberlands, I tend to borrow Derek’s lawn. Not quite the great outdoors, but it certainly takes the pressure off me.