A MINDFUL PATH
I grew up in the neighbourhood at the south end of Dundurn Street, where the Mountain stairs, the Bruce Trail and the Chedoke Rail Trail intersect.
We spent all our time, it seemed, exploring the woods beneath Beckett Drive (which we called the Queen Street Hill) between “The Res” (Highland Gardens Park, built on the city reservoir), and Chedoke Golf Course. It was an idyllic place to grow up: we had forts in the woods, a swimming hole in the ravine beneath Chedoke Falls, and endless hikes and adventures (not all of which my pals and I would admit to even today).
It’s also an idyllic place to make a garden, as John Bak and Linda Reynolds demonstrate with their lushly planted, terraced space backing onto the escarpment. From the top of the garden, the view north includes the harbour and the escarpment beyond. Down into the garden, the perspective changes from every viewpoint. From the house, the garden echoes
the natural woods behind it but is tamed with pathways, steps and sitting places, carefully chosen shrubs, trees and perennials along with artfully placed stone and rock.
To understand the story of the garden, it helps to know the story of John and Linda. They had been high school sweethearts in Burlington and went, as is often the case, their separate ways. John bought the Hillcrest property in 1982 when, behind the house, there was only was a pool (still there), a grassy slope up to the old radial rail trail, and a few locust trees.
He got into landscaping the back garden in a fairly major way, terracing with stone and wood-tie retaining walls, adding the steps and paths up the slope, creating places to sit and enjoy, removing grass and planting trees and shrubs.
Then, for about 10 years, he lost interest in the garden. Work and family took him away from the timeconsuming project. Then John’s wife, Mary-Kate died of cancer.
Some time after that, John found Linda on Facebook. She was living in Vancouver. “I hadn’t seen her for 40 years.”
After hesitancy on both sides, they reconnected. Linda moved to be with him six years ago, and suddenly the garden, overgrown with ivy, pachysandra and a few other stubborn plants, became a priority again.
The work has been considerable: steps and pathways had to be rebuilt, overgrowth pulled, pruned and removed, and new plantings put in place.
In high school, John and Linda had been students of then art teacher Robert Bateman. Like many of his former students, they’ve stayed in touch with him, visited him at his home on Salt Spring Island, and remain inspired by him, particularly Bateman’s concepts of space and his use of stone in his paintings and around his B.C. home.
John (and lately, Linda), has two complementary visions for the garden; one involves the steps and pathways up, around and across the slope.
“I’m trying to get the paths and steps so it will have 1,000 steps, each one with something to think about. The idea is to have a mindful path,” he says. (The garden is only so wide, so the pathways will total 500 steps in one direction, 500 more in another.)
Their other focus is using the shapes of trees and shrubs to create interest on the slope. There are rounded shapes, such as a lovely Japanese maple, tall pillar shapes in the trees, mounded shrubs, and the flattened shape of massed burning bush.
“It’s a geometric thing in there,” John says.
The use of shapes means the garden has year-round interest.
“It really looks nice in the winter,” Linda says.
“There’s still a lot of green,” John adds. “The snow brings out the textures and shapes.”
Between the house and pool, John has built an arbour (the wood is from the family home in Burlington), over which a massive wisteria climbs. They’re still working on getting it to flower, but even with just the foliage it makes a lovely, sheltered spot.
As they continue refining the garden on the slope, they’re also looking at the smaller, more intimate spaces near the house to create compact, yet different and distinct, garden rooms.
In this garden, it’s all about the views: not just what you see, but how you see it.