Gardening in the Third Age
Seventy-something Clare Scott talks to Kim Newth about how she developed her small garden and keeps it looking beautiful.
At Clare Scott’s home in Lincoln, south of Christchurch, I find a small garden bright with daisies and fragrant roses where she is busy flicking out the odd weed with the aid of a long-handled garden implement. ‘‘The first rule of what I call ‘Third Age gardening’ is never get on your hands and knees, and keep bending to a minimum,’’ Scott says, as she introduces me to her ‘‘swoe’’ that ends with an angled blade. ‘‘I can use this to dig in, hoe and chop things up and, when I see a weed, I scoop it up and flick it out.’’
She has loved gardening all her life, having first got a taste for it growing vegetables as a child on her parents’ Southland farm.
In the 1960s, when she and her husband, Alex, were a young married couple and starting a family of their own, she kept a country garden.
In those days, she grew everything from seed, planting thousands of flowering annuals to complement established shrubs.
Later, they moved, creating a city garden in Invercargill where Scott discovered a passion for hedges, using them to create garden rooms that were developed with love over three decades.
Four-and-a-half years ago, on moving to Lincoln to be closer to family, Scott had to start again from scratch on a small, bare corner section.
Developing a flourishing new garden, in her 70s, has required wisdom and realism.
‘‘I’m past being able to cart and shovel loads of earth and compost, so I’ve had to really focus on what will actually grow here without too much intervention.’’
Fuss-free daisies that don’t need a lot of watering grow in profusion in the mixed peach, cream and pink border by the house.
To gain vertical structure, Scott avoided flowering cherries and their troublesome suckers, in favour of non-invasive columnar crabapples (‘‘Maypole’’ and ‘‘Samba’’), narrow upright box (‘‘Graham Blandy’’) and ornamental beech (‘‘Dawyck Purple’’) trees.
Never a fan of board fencing, she planted low Corokia hedging along the main boundary, with an offset middle section for visual interest.
It is very wind-tolerant hedging, with dense foliage that can be easily trimmed.
Set into this is an eye-level ‘‘floating hedge on legs’’ of English beech.
‘‘The effect is like looking through windows: we have our privacy, but we can see through to the street life outside.’’
Scott has created a lovely little garden view from the living room, backed by hedging and with a centrepiece sundial saved from their previous garden.
Along with daisies, there are coral and white penstemon-like mini foxgloves, trailing helichrysum (‘Limelight’) and two maypole apple trees ‘‘to provide the full stops’’.
Other keepsakes from the former garden include a couple of rusty metal chooks on the lawn, a sturdy garden seat made of old bridge runners and totara posts, and a smattering of heritage roses.
Scott loves the stories associated with old roses and couldn’t resist planting a few long-time favourites, such as Roseraie de l’Hay and Fru Dagmar Hastrup.
Another little treasures corner includes some family keepsake plants like dogs tooth violets, miniature daffodils and snowdrops.
Incidentally, she does not recommend planting too many bulbs in the garden if you are retired. ‘‘They are just too messy and hard to work around.’’
At the far end of the lawn is Scott’s ‘‘look-afteryourself-garden’’.
‘‘It is terribly hard soil there, so whatever survives stays and will look after itself.’’
Tucked away in a sheltered area behind the home are tomato plants in pots – absolutely laden – and raised boxed beds growing a profusion of herbs and vegetables. Espaliered heritage apple trees (‘‘Monty’s Surprise’’) have also been established.
Scott is president of the Springston Garden Club and enjoys writing garden columns. Her background includes three years as a green keeper and 30 years working in garden centres.
Everything has been planted in a considered way.
‘‘I didn’t want to create a monster, but a garden to enjoy in its simplicity,’’ she says.
‘‘I can usually get around all of it with my swoe and bucket in an hour.’’