Sculpting the Earth

THAT’S A POETIC way of saying “moving dirt around,” which is what my daughter Zoë and I have been doing these past two mild afternoons.

This property came with a compost heap, misguidedly located smack in the middle of the backyard: a rectangular pile of dirt and twigs, 20 feet long, 6 feet wide, and 3 feet high, cutting the yard in half for no good reason.

My friend Nancy came up with the idea of turning the pile into a flower bed, as it’s (a) presumably decent soil, and (b) in an open, fairly sunny area, where it should be easy enough to grow catmint, ladies mantel, lamb’s ear, and other (deer-resistant) cottage garden favorites. But it was the wrong shape and in the wrong place (though not far from the ‘right’ place).

There was also the matter of an exposed septic-tank cover nearby — a concrete octagon, above, that sat about 8″ above ground on cinder blocks, through the holes of which unpleasant odors would occasionally waft.

Eric Ernst, who cut down several large trees for me in September, suggested burying the septic cover with soil and having that be the highest elevation point, then gently tapering the soil down from there.

I liked the idea of covering the smell-emitting holes. But the prospect of shoveling all that dirt into a different, more graceful shape seemed back-breaking, and I kept putting it off. However, once begun, like so many things dreaded and long postponed, it was easier and went much faster than anticipated.

First, I used a hose to suggest the desired shape, very roughly, as the hose wouldn’t bend the way I wanted it to and kept shifting around. Then, with two shovels, we started removing dirt from where we didn’t want it and throwing it (or wheeling it in a wheelbarrow, which wasn’t necessarily easier) where we did, pulling out the roots of wild rose and wisteria vine as we went.

Zoë took some logs that had been stacked for firewood and used them to outline the new bed. Now we have the makings of a free-form, vaguely peanut-shaped island bed, at least 25′ long at its longest point and perhaps 8′ at its narrowest, with the suggestions of paths around it on either side.

Then we smoothed the mounds of dirt, which are slightly undulating rather than flat within the free-form shape, with a metal rake. The final step was a dozen or so trips to my pile of chopped leaves in the woods. We tossed armfuls of leaves on top of the soil, where it will decompose further over the winter and and help create a ready-for-planting bed by spring.

It’s all still very preliminary. I don’t know what kind of paving material will surround it, or perhaps it will be groundcover. But it’s another step toward creating a gardenscape where once was chaos.

Below: A few seasons from now, perhaps?

Elke’s Terrace: Made in the Shade

THIS SPRING, IF YOU SPOT A WOMAN in a flower-covered hat pushing a red shopping cart full of plants around downtown Brooklyn, it’s probably my friend Elke.

A true gardener like Elke, whose outdoor space is a 15’x25′ terrace behind her second-floor apartment in Brooklyn Heights, doesn’t let a few obstacles stop her.

No car? No worries. She does her plant-shopping on foot at the Borough Hall Greenmarket and local stores like GRDN on Hoyt Street, takes the bus to Gowanus Nursery in Red Hook, and relies on Bruno’s Housewares on Court Street to deliver clay pots (never plastic), soil, and other heavy supplies. (The cast iron urns came from Restoration Hardware.)

No direct sun? Elke makes the most of every ray that penetrates the ailanthus canopy around her north-facing terrace: a single hour in the morning and a couple more at midday. By choosing the right plants and coddling them — even shifting them around from time to time to give each a piece of the limited sun — she has wrought a lush green miracle, don’t you agree? (These pictures were taken last June.)

Among Elke’s shade-lovers: vines and climbers like moonflower and morning glory on tuteurs, rosemary topiaries (in the sunniest corner), jasmine, hibiscus, ferns, caladiums, an amazing purple and white ‘corkscrew’ plant (below), coleus, hostas, spotted begonias, passionflower.  “I don’t do impatiens,” she says.

Here are Elke’s tips for terrace-garden design and healthy container plants, even if you don’t have a ton of sun:

• Use 4’x8′ sheets of wood lattice to obscure an unattractive fence but still let in light and air
• Make the terrace feel like an outdoor living room with chair cushions, mirrors on the exterior wall (also good for capturing extra rays), chandeliers and sconces
• Completely change the soil in each container every season, don’t just ‘top off’ with a fresh inch or two. “Nutrients in containers get used up very quickly, and roots completely fill the pot” by the end of the growing season, she says. She doesn’t have room for a compost heap, so she tosses it all and starts anew each spring.
• Feed with fish emulsion; it’s better for the environment, the cats (who sometimes nibble on the plants), and it seems to work wonders on the plants themselves
• Don’t set out plants before Memorial Day; these are mostly tender, heat-loving plants
• Water daily
• If you go away for a weekend, pull pots into even deeper shade so they don’t dry out in the heat

What makes Elke’s terrace garden so out-of-the-ordinary?  I think it has something to do with exotic foliage and unusual color combinations. A multi-disciplinary artist/designer, her favorites are gray/silver (e.g. dusty miller) with chartreuse and burgundy (e.g. sweet potato vine) — and splashes of pink from “as many flowers as I can get.”