Behind every successful garden lies a ton of effort and planning. Just like discovering an antique’s unique past, unearthing a garden’s history can reveal both its challenges and potential. I’m sharing my garden’s backstory to demonstrate that regardless of the starting conditions, with time, labor, motivation and patience, a beautiful garden can be had.
It helps to make a general plan before you begin. And yes, you’ll need to find someone to do much of the grunt work, if not yourself. (For more on this topic see Tips for Creating A New Garden and Making A Garden Plan.)
This page is long, so I’ve broken it into segments corresponding to the years spent creating it. Feel free to skip around, or just browse the before and after photos.
One garden’s provenance
Five years ago, my husband and I purchased an end unit townhouse adjacent to 13 acres of woods and a retention basin. The leafy HOA-controlled neighborhood has a walking trail, private playground and well-manicured homes. Greenspace provides privacy and beauty. A major highway runs within sight and earshot, but fortunately is not on top of us. In short, it’s a desirable place to live typical of mature suburbs in eastern Pennsylvania (US Growing Zone 6B).
Having moved here from five acres of rural seclusion, our new yard was an adjustment, both physically and emotionally. Hedges of yew and euonymus dominated the yard. A huge Norway spruce hid much of the house. Forsythia smothered our side bank for at least 100 feet. Black walnut trees, dying box elder and tulip poplars ringed the property. Except for visiting deer, the only wildlife was a flock of house sparrows camped out in the forsythia.
Unfortunately, grim growing conditions like these are not unusual in suburban and urban settings. It takes considerable labor to establish a new garden even under favorable conditions. This property would surely take extra work, so I didn’t waste any time.
That winter I started laying out possibilities on paper. The geography did have potential. Woodlands bordered the rear; the retention basin made for welcome breathing room; the bank provided visual interest. The biggest problem was the overgrown mess covering it all. Clearing it would certainly be challenge.
Year One, 2017
The first things to come out were ugly stamped pavers in the back, a front yew hedge, dying arborvitae between us and our neighbor, and the dead trees. A new stone retaining wall, Schip laurels and holly replaced the arbs for a better privacy screen.
My husband wielded an iron bar and a “pulaski” (a type of pickaxe) more than he did a shovel. New drainpipe and flagstones went in where the pavers had been. By planting on top of a retaining bed, we gained height, recycled rocks, and added visual interest all at once. Today this planting provides excellent evergreen privacy.
In the shady rear border there was just pachysandra and more forsythia. I cleared an area above the pachysandra bank and planted hostas, daylilies, astilbe, bleeding heart, ferns and columbine.
Next we began clearing the bank of weeds and debris. To block sight of a nearby storm culvert, a new Norway spruce was strategically placed on the partially cleared bank. The spruce immediately contributed color, texture, and the promise of potential shelter for wintering birds. Spruces are the hardiest conifers for our region.
The north side of the drive would become the main perennial bed, since it received full sun. This being suburbia, there was no easy way to dispose of the old pavers we’d taken out the year before. I decided to recycle them into a ground-level retaining wall along the back of the new bed.
The wall would serve double-duty to level out the planting bed and provide walkable access for shearing the forsythia. After amending the soil and embedding the pavers, I planted the first batch of perennials. This bed would become the heart of the garden and was subsequently never out of bloom. The forsythia hedge is behind.
Year Two, 2018
Clipping the forsythia improved its look significantly, but it still didn’t bloom well, and it was diseased in places; we knew it all had to come out sooner or later. Forsythia is non-native and very tenacious; the roots must be dug out entirely or it will regenerate.
We decided to tackle the most visible areas first, toward the front of the property, and to break up the work into stages, to be done over at least two years. Compacted clay and buried construction debris didn’t make it any easier. This chore was soul-sucking hard work, I won’t kid you. But it had to be done.
Knockout roses and rose of sharon went into the gaps created by taking out sections of forsythia. I only amended the soil in the planting holes, as otherwise the job would have been simply overwhelming. The mulch helped tremendously. A purple smoke tree added contrast.
Now that the hedge behind the electrical boxes was out, I needed something low yet dense to screen the back of the boxes from view. I chose maiden grass Morning Light and spirea Magic Carpet for their structure, toughness, colorful foliage and textural interest. This spirea has foliage that opens deep red-orange in spring, turning golden with pink blooms, then chartreuse, and finally a soft apricot in fall.
UPDATE: As of spring 2023, the spirea (which died due to root rot) were replaced with eco-friendly fothergilla Blue Shadow and several grasses. Some spirea forms are also considered invasive. — Adrienne
Along the north house foundation which gets very little sun, the overgrown euonymous hedge (which was too shaded to ever turn red) was removed to make way for rhododendron, hydrangea, Japanese andromeda (Pieris) and Carolina sweetshrub (Calycanthus) Venus. A few existing hostas stayed, but once we realized the deer mowed them off every year, they came out too.
The remaining forsythia behemoth still ran two-thirds the depth of the property and towered well over our heads when we stood below it. At 15 feet deep, its mass required trimming with special long-handled tools several times a summer. A single shearing took the better part of two days, a ridiculously labor-intensive chore. Before we could rip out the rest, though, we needed a replacement plan — and more energy. We left it for next year.
The yews blocking the garage window out front were targeted to come out next. The soil was terrible, with mulch over a foot deep. We hired a landscaper to dispatch of the hedge and chew up the mulch.
In the left rear corner, I selected evergreen Southern magnolia Kay Parris, and cherry laurel Otto Luyken, for their luxurious texture and structure. Iris, yarrow and daylilies provided color. To (sort of) remedy the over-sheared Kousa dogwood I began a years-long corrective pruning regimen. By widening this bed and adding a graceful curved edge, I also gained critical planting space with good sun exposure.
Something That Didn’t Work
I intended to grow climbing roses on trellises on either side of the window but the roses balked, in part due to bad soil (even amended) and harsh winter exposure. The eave overhang was also a problem. Two years later, the trellises and several roses were taken out. You win some, you lose some.
Year Three, 2019
Two aging Alberta spruces effectively hid the electrical boxes from the street, but they dominated the space. Unsightly holes marred their profiles. To replace them and avoid disturbing their root balls (because of the electrical lines underneath) I designed a curved berm with grasses, dwarf conifers, peonies, golden barberry, transplanted roses, heather and rocks. Landscapers leveled the Albertas and installed the berm; I added the plants.
This bed was probably the most satisfying change we made, and its success greatly encouraged me. A class on landscape design I was taking at Longwood Gardens also kept me motivated.
Over in the main bed, I continued to add perennials like foxgloves, daisies, salvias, catmint, artemisia, geum and more. I also painted the pavers to blend in with a new stone path. While I liked the old garden gate, it was badly rotted and eventually had to be removed.
By now, most of the rear had been cleared of forsythia. That area got just a half day of sun with lots of dappled shade. This became the ideal spot for woodland natives. Liriope plugs helped stabilize the steepest parts of the bank. Dwarf hollies, winterberry, witch hazel and viburnum were added to the understory I was creating. Two poplars were taken down, making room for new redbuds and dogwoods.
In the narrow strip between the front wall foundation and driveway I planted lilies, boxwood, a climbing rose and narrow evergreens. Lilies went here because the spot gets full sun and the deer don’t like to cross this much macadam. It’s the only bed on the property they don’t access — so the lilies are safe. And, I could enjoy the lily and rose fragrances up close. The evergreens contribute much-needed winter color and texture, softening all the hard surfaces.
With the rear woodland beds defined, we hired a contractor to replace the aging wooden deck with a Trex one. Hydrangeas, hellebores and cyclamen were added along the deck’s perimeter. Dwarf goatsbeard, ligularia, more ferns and spring phlox joined alliums and astilbe in the woodland garden. Aralia and Jacob’s Ladder went in.
Over on the side bank, we couldn’t put off removing the rest of the forsythia any longer. My husband insisted on tackling this job himself. It took most of the summer but he got it out, roots and all. What a relief! We celebrated by trading in our pickup truck for a new SUV. Mulch and clippings could be hauled in barrels in that from now on.
Now for the fun part: Re-imagining the now-bare expanse of side bank, full of possibility. I chose 3 Serbian spruce for an evergreen “backbone,” extending forward a line of conifers begun with the Norway spruce planted earlier.
For great fall color against the evergreens, I added dwarf gingko (yellow) and columnar Japanese maples (red). Viburnum, grasses, low-gro sumac, oakleaf hydrangea and orange rocket barberry are all low-maintenance selections that can handle black walnut tree toxin (juglone)and the rocky conditions with ease.
The effect was nothing short of transformative. But with so much soil exposed now, dozens of trips for municipal mulch ensued. Soon my husband was on a first-name basis with the guys at the yard waste center. I was so grateful for his help, and for the free mulch!
I continued to plant like a madwoman: Phlox, laurels, delphinium, summersweet, balloon flowers; asters, mums, monarda, hellebores and more. Annuals like cleome, snapdragons, melampodium, and petunias filled in where perennials were still small or not yet present.
On the side bank, establishing natives like wild bergamot and echinacea pallida (a native prairie coneflower) using plugs was cost-effective, but also slow and tedious. I spread this task over several seasons. Some things took, others didn’t. Too much rain, not enough sun, a northern exposure and heavy clay made things a challenge.
Today the “native” area is a riot of color and foliage. Back then, it was a waiting game spent mostly fighting weeds and rocks. To offset the sparsity until the plugs established, I mixed in hybrid monarda and phlox, daylilies and grasses, especially along the top. I wanted to be able to enjoy taller flowers from the kitchen and dining windows.
Intermingling natives and non-natives proved to be an effective strategy for heightening seasonal interest in this area and for faster fill in. Hybrids also helped avoid the “weedy” look that natives often create, a style usually frowned upon in suburban landscapes.
To balance the huge spruce out front as well as to reclaim more planting space, I decided to limb up the tree and plant hellebores and laurels underneath. (Later I realized hellebores prefer alkaline soil, but for now, it’s working.) A low stone wall was built to hide a new drain pipe and better delineate the driveway from the planting bed. I again resorted to plugs to help defray their cost, even though hellebores are slow growers. It helps to be an optimist if you’re an impatient gardener like me!
Later I added Japanese hakone grass and lambsear Helen von Stein to enliven the unwalled edge.
By now, all beds were clearly defined with their “anchor” perennials in place. I simply kept adding to them as every gardener does. Annuals filled in where perennials were still establishing. Butterflies and bees appeared. To my great delight, songbirds of all kinds were now regularly visiting our feeders, boxes and birdbath year-round. Other wildlife showed up too, like the fox who dug up everything I’d just planted the day before, because I used fish emulsion fertilizer. I’ll never do that again!
At last, the garden was well on its way to completion. However, lingering toxins from a black walnut tree continue to sicken and kill plants on the bank, as you can see by the gaps in the orange spirea above left.
Year Four, 2020 – Covid-19 pandemic hits
As we all know, anyone who could carry a flowerpot embraced gardening in 2020 like never before. Nurseries had their best year ever. Mail order houses couldn’t meet demand. By April, many inventories were already sold out. Luckily, my garden project for 2020 was modest and I was able to find what I needed locally or online.
Our mailbox occupied an isolated wedge of boring lawn with blacktop on three sides. Situated in full sun, it was an obvious spot begging for a more interesting treatment.
I decided to tie the mailbox (which got replaced) area back to the foundation bed behind it with an low, arching border of soft-touch hollies along one side. The grass wedge became oval, offsetting the straight lines of the blacktop. Rocks, geum, delphinium, heather, cerastium, veronicastrum, a dwarf conifer and agastache went in by the curb. Annuals provided color until the perennials established.
Meanwhile, the local deer were relishing all these young plants I was adding everywhere. For the past three years they devoured roses, daylilies, phlox and hostas as fast as the shoots and buds appeared. Nets, sprays and waving arms provided a small speed bump of sorts, but didn’t stop them. I love the deer, but not their appetites.
I decided if I was ever to truly deter them I would have to change the menu. So, out came armfuls of daylilies and hostas. I left a few lilies on the bank because their roots are excellent stablilizers, but I stopped hoping I’d ever see them flower. Luckily they finally did, magnificently in fact, in 2021. (The deer population crashed about the same time, but less “deer food” in my beds also meant less visits.)
Four years in, the garden was looking wonderful. All the watering, deadheading, weeding, fertilizing and mulching was paying off!
To be sure, there were setbacks. I lost a holly, a few roses and a new golden fir (to walnut toxin). Black spot and Japanese beetles took a toll. Severe mildew cut down helenium, rudbeckia and asters early. Many of the perennials jostle shoulder to shoulder, so air circulation gets compromised. But I’d rather prune my plants back periodically than leave gaps where weeds can get a foothold.
I also manually remove or tolerate as many non-lethal problems as possible to avoid having to resort to herbicides and pesticides. Insecticidal soap and horticultural oil, along with Bonide copper dust, are used instead. I try to use organic granular fertilizers as well. I do have a professional treat some of the evergreens for phytophthora rot because there’s no recourse. Not ideal, but it can’t be helped.
Year Five, 2021
This year, the spring and early summer garden exceeded my expectations. The floral displays have been positively marvelous, especially the peonies and roses. I’ve loved watching everything come into season and thrive! Abundant rains and a generally cool spring made for luxurious growth everywhere, and so many blooms meant there were plenty of extra blooms for indoor arrangements. Even the local garden club paid tribute with a “garden of excellence” sign for the month of July. A very nice compliment.
Many of the natives finally came into their own, with wild bergamot and agastache and joe pyeweed forming great clouds of bloom.
Coneflowers frothed themselves into a sea of pink. Even the birds agreed; a pair of bluebirds raised their brood in our bluebird box.
A few plants on backorder from Oregon got “cooked” in transit in a freak heatwave. I didn’t ask for my money back. One can’t expect a seedling that was clearly alive and packed with care to endure 115+ degree heat and survive. The extreme weather was not the nursery’s fault. These things happen.
Despite a natural treatment for grubs in the lawn last year and this, our grass has brown patches. The rose of sharon got cotton scale. Mites attacked the echinaceas, forcing me to deadhead early. A number of plants developed various leaf blights and viruses, but that’s to be expected in excessively hot and humid conditions like we’ve had this summer. Other than that, this year’s been great.
We may install steps on the side bank at some point to make traversing it easier and safer, but otherwise we’re mostly done except for spring bulbs, which I left for last. I have camassia and others on order to plant this fall, now that the major plantings are in place. No doubt things will evolve as every garden does.
It’s been hard work but also quite fun, and very rewarding. Considering the state of the property when we started, I couldn’t be happier with the results.
So there you have it. As of spring 2021, the garden contained about 325 cultivars. Of course the inventory list is a moving target, but you get the idea. I do hope I’ve inspired you!
Summary
It took us five years to create the garden, with hired help doing only the parts we could not, like the tree work, deck and berm. My husband and I did the rest, and we will continue to do so for as long as we’re able. We are aged 73 and 69 respectively. If we can do this, so can you.
Here is my most recent plant inventory list, in case you’re interested.
Best of all, after the work comes the enjoyment part. Being retired, we get to stroll around in the mornings with our coffee, or in the evenings with a glass wine or beer, taking in the fragrances, the insects, the intricate tapestry of ever-changing colors and textures and birdcalls. It’s the kind of quiet joy we revel in, and we wouldn’t have it any other way.
Happy digging!
Further Reading: Tips for creating a new perennial garden