Kiwi Gardens, Perth

I am slowly making my way through the hundreds of pictures I took last summer, scattered between the Canon and the Blackberry. Waiting to edit summer photos while yet another January snow falls softly outside the windows is a reward in itself, and I am thoroughly enjoying the escape to some of the beautiful places and spaces we were able to visit in 2013.

At the end of the first week in June, Paul and I were able to sneak away for a quiet drive to Kiwi Gardens in Perth. Though it is only an hour away, this is the first time we had been there. I was on a quest  for Persicaria Polymorpha, and their website had it listed…the only garden centre, it seemed, anywhere near Kingston that had this particular perennial available...but that is a post (or rant) for another day.

As we pulled into the parking lot, the gardens began, and I instantly regretted leaving the Canon at home.  I said a small prayer to my husband's Blackberry and hoped it would do some justice in capturing what I was seeing. The garden centre is surrounded by lush forest, and overcast skies gave contrast to the vibrancy of the perennial beds, most designed with shade loving perennials and native shrubs…I will let the pictures speak for themselves.

Parking lot border

A lesson in the effective use of ground covers,
colour and composition.

Beautiful flagstone pathways -
hostas clearly thrive here

The nursery - I was impressed with the staff as much as the gardens.
Everyone was incredibly friendly and possessed a genuine, passionate
knowledge about the plants they sell. 

Pathways lead you through tantalizing display gardens,
many perennials are identified along the way
for gardeners of all abilities.

Hostas!

Beautiful artwork is displayed along the walkways.

Display bed - perennials are grown and propagated on site.

Kiwi gardens is situated on ten acres near Perth, Ontario. The owners have been in business for twenty-five years and though I did not have the opportunity to meet them, their love of the plants and nature is evident in every beautiful nook and cranny. I look forward to visiting again this spring and perhaps wandering a little longer.

Theirs represents the dream of a life I hope to have someday, working and living amongst gardens, sustaining, nourishing and cherishing diversity. Kiwi Gardens offers a refuge for 3000 perennials, many unique and not easy to find on the tables of our mainstream garden centres. A plant list is available on their website, and I urge you to browse through it as we sit and wait, planning for spring. If you are lucky enough to visit and shop, I urge you to bring your camera and comfortable shoes for strolling the trails.

By the way, I did find my Persicaria, and purchased three healthy plants along with five Carex Rosea and a few more perennial treasures.

Wishing you lovely day!

Blood, Sweat & Tears: The Making of a Shade Garden

I thought I would share the project that kicked off my gardening season last March. I had been working on design plans all winter for our own property, and redoing the side yard took priority as I knew I wanted to move some mature plants early in the spring. Our side yard is actually a good size, and you can see in one of my first posts about my lovely twisted sisters that it is also rather bare with a slope of approximately three feet. The previous homeowner had used this area for a daycare and had 12 yards of sand dumped in for the kids to play on. Not so good for lawn or garden, but with perseverance and a great deal of compost I have slowly been able to improve the growing conditions.

Even though the grass now grows, this portion of our property is hardly used as it is completely visible to the neighbour who frightens the kids and the dog. Perhaps I'll enlighten you more in another post, but I'll be be charitable today and spare everyone the ongoing saga of the fight for privacy from said scary neighbour.

I planned the new shade garden to consist of two tiers to address the slope. Each tier measure 8' wide by 24' long. As our property sits perched on fractured limestone, the first order of business was to search for the ever prevalent rock that plagues my gardening enjoyment. This first find proved to be a challenge. Barely sticking out of the soil, I had no idea what I was about to get myself into...a battle with a three foot triangle of limestone that did not want to go quietly.

There is nothing like a pair of steel-toed boots to make a girl feel like superwoman! Armed with a shovel and a pry bar, and a weak knowledge of basic physics, I started off feeling rather invincible. Two hours later, exhausted, and utterly annoyed I called in back-up. My son Jo was 13 in that photo, and had sprung up to 6'2" over the course of the winter. His new found strength came in handy though he enjoyed gloating a little too much that he was finally stronger than his mother. (In my defence I do believe the rock was still wet, and therefore heavy, from the spring thaw...I can normally do this on my own.)

Triumph! With Jo's help (he's still in his pajamas!) the rock was shimmied over to take the corner position of the first tier. To finish off, stone was unearthed from this garden area and other various locations, and after four days of digging, lugging, preparing base, and levelling I was ready to start prepping the soil...and have a very long nap.

Lots of compost went into the beds as well as five yards of Gro-Max which is a fantastic product I order from my local supplier. The garden filled in with a lovely mixture of textures and my favourite vibrant hues of green from emerald to chartreuse...perennials include hostas, ferns, brunnera 'Jack Frost', heucheras, polemonium (Jacob's Ladder), Alchemilla mollis, (Lady's Mantle), hydrangea 'Annabelle'. I added two clipped yews for vertical accent and two Japanese maples which my wonderful, thrifty husband had bought for me at an end-of-year blowout sale for only $8.00 each.

Here are some photos of the finished product as it started to fill out in May and June:

Upper tier

My elegant $8 japanese maple looking pretty in the morning sun

A hedge of Annabelle hydrangea back the lower tier

Though it looks like fall this photo was taken at the beginning of July - the effect of the drought can be seen with falling leaves littering the curved pathway between the garden and the house. Two large rain barrels sit to the right of this picture which helped keep everyone alive.

I am so looking forward to seeing this garden spring back to life over the next two months. Until next time I wish you sunshine, warm days, peace and joy!

Twisted Sisters

You may think that the "maples" portion of my blog titles refers to those stately maples that grace elegant  gardens and properties everywhere...those that turn shades of glorious reds and golds in the fall...Sugar maple, or the graceful Japanese, variegated Harlequins, the handsome Crimson King, or the lovely Deborah.

I am sorry to say it is not so...it is something much humbler than that.

I have nine mature maples on my property that came with the our little house when we bought it six years ago. I find them imperfectly charming, though I would I have to admit if pressed, that three of them are just downright unattractive (sorry trees) but I have not figured out the right sort of plan to deal with them yet. So they been given a temporary reprieve.

I have had several groups of my husband's gardening students over for garden tours, and these poor maples, Acer negundo illicit the most heated comments. I think the criticism is a little unwarranted. I had one memorable student, arms waving, teeth clenched (honestly, she did that) decry their very existence, proclaiming that if it was her garden they would have all been cut down before the china was put away in the cupboard. Weeds, she called them. Ugly old weeds. I have to admit I was hurt, as hurt as if she had insulted my children.

Given a choice I would not plant manitoba maples. But I do feel a kinship to them and a sense of loyalty fed by nostalgia. 

A view from the side yard
(one day I will learn to put away my gardening stuff and the kids toys before grabbing the camera)

My Grandma B's garden in Stonewall, Manitoba was contained by a perfectly clipped beech hedge on one side and a row of four manitoba maples on the other. I loved climbing those trees as a child ( I would be sure to break something if I tried that now), loved raking the leaves, loved sitting under their shade. When we first looked at this house in its unmaintained glory, it was the twisted branches of the maples that spoke to me the loudest. They reminded me of home.

They do have their shortcomings...they are messy, always dropping branches and thousands, if not millions of keys that root far too easily in the gardens. The send up suckers relentlessly and require constant pruning several times during the year. They are not what you would call "picture perfect" either with their large gnarly, multi stemmed trunks, branches that shoot out at weird angles, and a fungus that infects the leaves with horrible little bumps otherwise causing no real harm.

But I do love them. They provide the required shade for my shade gardens and lovely spots to sit under. They keep the house cool in warmer months. Their twisted, dancing branches have proven to be very useful for hanging things from... a hammock, a garden swing, bird feeders, and the occasional child who gets their underwear hung up on the branches. Most importantly, their roots have been instrumental in breaking up the solid limestone that I garden on, creating the "deep zones" that I hunger for.

They will not be around forever... Acer negundo is relatively short lived as far as trees are concerned, and some of my trees must be approaching the end of their expected lifespan. We have prepared for this day and have added littleleaf lindens (Tilia cordite), a darling paperbark maple (Acer griseum) and two blue spruce (Picea pungens)  that are taking forever to grow through the limestone, but will hopefully reach a respectable height by the time the maples come down.

But for now I defend my right to enjoy my twisted sisters and proclaim that they too have the right to live out their lives in the protected shelter of my gardens. 


They remind me, humbly,  that we all have flaws and true beauty is in the soul of things, and in the eye of the beholder.