Sage Advice

Dreams and schemes

Callum Halstead

When I sold my last house, I didn't know what sort of garden I would be moving to, so I brought with me as much of my plant collection as I could, just in case. After nine long months of searching, whilst simultaneously caring for the four hundred or so potted plants that I brought with me, I have finally found somewhere for us all to live. Let me tell you, that feels very nice. At long last, I will be able to get some of my plants back in the ground and enjoy tending a real garden, rather than something akin to the plant sales area of B&Q.

Most of my plants thrive in shady, sheltered spots, but my new garden occupies an open, south-facing slope on the Fife coast. This presents some interesting new challenges. The upper two thirds of the garden are above roof height, exposed to the salty coastal air and transitory squalls that blow in across the Forth. Right now, my shade-loving woodland plants are all cowering in the relative shelter of the small courtyard behind the house, at the bottom of the hill. They can't be very impressed with me.

My new neighbours inform me that once, many years ago, the garden I've inherited was meticulously cared for, providing sanctuary for a man traumatised during the war. All that remains of his garden are his cold-frames, a very dated looking Rose with shocking-pink blooms (Rosa spp.), and possibly the old Plum tree (Prunus domestica). The rest has now reverted almost entirely to scrubby grass— more or less, a blank canvas. The garden is split across seven different levels, with some terraces more useable than others. Given all this empty space, and considerably fewer useable plants than I thought I'd have, the question is "what now?"

I'm very out of my horticultural comfort zone, and it could take me some time to formulate and commit to a plan of action. I am, however, very excited at the prospect of creating something new. Here are some of the thoughts currently racing through my mind at this very early stage, as I begin a new relationship with this curious and challenging garden. As and when you find yourself in unfamiliar terrain, with a new garden to plan, I hope some of these suggestions might help guide your approach.

It will take time to fully understand your new garden's microclimate, particularly if you are completely new to the area. Some say you should do nothing for the first year and just observe the garden through the changing seasons, noting things like frost pockets, sun traps, and areas that don't drain well. I am not that patient. I will still look for these things, but the gardening will commence imminently. Before making any major decisions, though, it's not a bad idea to carry out a little bit of detective work to see what you have inherited. The obvious first step is to look at the plants that are present. Are they happy? Do they seem to be growing well? The better able you are to identify the plants, the more information you will glean about the growing conditions in your garden. For example, if Lavender (Lavandula sp.) is looking sick, while nearby Siberian Irises (Iris sibirica) are thriving, it could be that your new soil is moisture retentive. This will influence the types of plants you'll be able to grow. If you require a little help with plant identification, nothing beats someone with a bit of plant knowledge coming to have a look in person. Phone apps can be useful, but they aren't foolproof and can be shockingly inaccurate. I've had some success with both PlantNet and Candide. Candide has a community of users to help track down the correct plant name, provided you take a good picture. This app is also very useful for finding local gardens to visit for planting inspiration.

In the absence of much plant life in your new garden, look at what your neighbours have done with theirs. The chances are that what grows well for them will do well for you. Once you've identified a handful of plants that thrive locally, and noted anything that isn't in good shape, look online at the preferred growing requirements of each plant on your list. Knowing what grows well, and what doesn't, should tell you a lot about the specific set of conditions your new garden has to offer.

To further enhance your insight, it's not a bad idea to look online for your local weather data, and to test the pH of your topsoil. Testing kits are very inexpensive and simple to use. If you have a larger garden, it's worth testing in a few different spots, as the pH can vary across a plot. Knowing whether the soil is acidic, alkaline, or neutral will help you select plants that are appropriate for the available growing conditions and, more importantly, rule out plants that will object to the wrong sort of soil. The further away from neutral your soil turns out to be, the more important this information will likely be for you. Armed with all of this data about the habitat and microclimate of your garden, you'll now be able to start making some sensible plant choices.

When thinking about the garden's design and layout, start by considering what it is that you want from the space. Do you want it to be a private space, or will you be using it for socialising and entertaining? Will you need somewhere for children or pets to play? Will the plants be taking centre stage, or will it be the pizza oven? Make a list of your requirements and try to prioritise them. While you juggle the elements that you would like to include, pay attention to how the sun falls across your garden at different times of day. This can shape how you will use the space and have an impact on where in the garden you might want to have your breakfast, or where you'd like to sit with a drink on a warm summer evening. With these things in mind, start making some rough sketches and, once you have a design that you are happy with, measure up the space and translate your sketch into a more accurate scale drawing. Next, I would suggest physically marking out the key features of your design on the ground in the garden itself, using builders' sand, canes or even the garden hose. Visualising your design within the space in this way is important. Your design may look good on paper, but certain elements may not translate well into reality. It's better to find out at this stage that your new patio is too cramped than once it has been laid.

When choosing materials for structures and hard landscaping, simplicity is often preferable. Limiting the main materials to three should help unify the design and prevent it from looking too busy. You don't have to use materials that are already present in your garden and its surroundings, but taking cues from your environment can help to settle the garden into the wider landscape. For example, my first material will be local stone— an easy choice as both the house and garden walls are built from it. The terracotta pantiles of rooftops really inform the views from my garden, so I'll take terracotta as my second material. Weathered timber also features on the house, around some of the windows and doors, so this will be my final material. Of course, it's possible that there are already more than three main materials present in your new garden. In this case, you can decide whether to stick with them all or gradually remove the ones that don't fit your desired aesthetic. The steps that run the length of my garden are made of concrete and are in rather shoddy condition. There's no way that I can do without the steps and there's not much chance of me being able to afford a new stone replacement any time soon. So, for now, I'll compromise by hiding as much of the concrete as I can with plants in terracotta pots.

I have a couple of book recommendations for further guidance through the process of creating your personal oasis. Both have greatly shaped the way I've approached the development of my own gardens, and both continue to inspire me each time I pick them up. The first is Dan Pearson's Home Ground: Sanctuary in the City (2011). This is the book for anyone with a small suburban or inner-city garden. Thoughtfully crafted, the book charts the development of Pearson's mid-terrace garden in Peckham, South London. As well as providing a fascinating glimpse into Dan's professional approach, the book is full of relevant advice that is very easy for the amateur gardener to apply. Although my coastal garden is very different to Dan's, his methods will still be very useful. It is fair to say that this title is a little heavy on the botanical Latin in places, so if you're a relative newcomer to the world of plants, it might be worth keeping a copy of the RHS's Encyclopaedia of Garden Plants (2016) close at hand. Those living a bit more rurally, or with more space to garden, might prefer Beth Chatto's Green Tapestry Revisited (2021). This is a recently updated and beautifully produced edition of one of Beth's classic titles, in which she and her garden team write informatively about the creation and development of her legendary garden at Elmstead Market in Essex.

Embarking on an adventure with a new garden should be exciting, albeit a little daunting. It may take many years to create the garden of your mind's eye, so it's important to remember to enjoy the process of transformation, and to celebrate each milestone of your creative process.

Image by Maddy Mould

References

Chatto, B. (2021) Green Tapestry Revisited. Berry & Co: London

Pearson, D. (2011) Home Ground: Sanctuary in the City. Conran: London

RHS (2016) Encyclopaedia of Garden Plants. Dorling Kindersley: London