Gardening with the land
Shaped like a wedge of ripe Brie, this garden set in the rolling East Lothian countryside has finally been tamed by its tenacious owner
When Frank Kirwan moved into his new home 11 years ago, the garden was an overgrown canvas. The drive led to the house, right enough, but the landscape beyond was a tangle of scrub: self-set trees and the odd mature shrub, artfully interwoven with equally mature brambles and overshadowed by vast leylandii.
Frank’s ambitions were clear – he wanted to set himself a gardening challenge and to open the results of his handiwork for charity, within five years. But that was as far as the plan went.
“My previous garden was boringly flat, but this one is anything but,” says Frank. “I started by laying out paths using the trees that I cut down, but I don’t really think the garden is structured, as such. It’s more arranged according to what I couldn’t move when I got here, like tree stumps and rocks.”
“I had no illusions about getting it right first time! I learned from my mistakes as I went along and although I flirted with design in previous gardens, here I just went with what was possible.”
Set at 183m (600ft) above sea level in the rolling countryside at the base of the Lammermuir Hills, the site is shaped, as Frank says, like a wedge of ripe Brie. To the ‘rind’ end, it is bounded by a single-track road and, on either side of the triangle, the boundaries are formed by two rivers that run through deep ravines and intersect at the ‘nose’.
Although the widest section around the 1930s timber house is relatively flat, the topography remains a defining feature and the land drops by 75ft (23m) from top to bottom. And, despite being surrounded by intensive agriculture, the garden is heavily wooded; the trees interwoven with paths and steps connecting the upper and lower levels, and running down to the streams.
“When I arrived, the top bit was a wilderness, so there was a lot of clearance to be done,” he explains. “I raised the crowns of some of the trees and took out others. It was pretty daunting, so at first I threw the leafy leylandii branches down into the ravine, but I soon realised that this created more problems than it solved.”
Frank did, however, discover an overgrown veg patch with a small pond. “This was the only bit that was fenced from the rabbits, so I converted it into a cottage garden.” He reveals, “I refer to it as the ‘Everyman’s Garden’ – it’s small and people look at it and go ‘oh, I could have this!’”
Over the years, the garden has developed into a patchwork of interest and, although initially Frank had
not intended to go beyond the flat top section of the garden, the planting has expanded through the now-airy woods and down the banks to the edge of the stream.
Around the house the informal lawns are broken up by wide borders. Elegant specimen trees, particularly birches, are densely underplanted with foliage plants and bulbs. There’s a meadow, filled with thousands of daffodils and bluebells, and the spring woodland is a vision of acid-loving shrubs such as rhododendron, skimmia and azalea. These are surrounded by a varied ground cover of plants, including pulmonarias, persicarias and hellebores.
“I’ve tried to make sure that there’s interest all year round,” says Frank, “by using plants with interesting bark, foliage and berries, and making sure that there’s evergreen winter structure. And I’ve put in lots and lots of bulbs, too.
“I don’t get much self-seeding, as I mulch heavily. It’s a bit of a shame, in some cases, but every year I buy a tray of hellebores – Oriental hybrids, which do really well in this garden.”
From the garden, you can barely see out into the surrounding landscape, and this creates a desirable sense of seclusion and privacy.
Nevertheless, Frank has discovered that there are distinct advantages to having agricultural neighbours. “I have an unlimited supply of cow manure; I can have as much as I like,” he says, “I turn up and take it away by the trailerload – hauling dung out of farmers’ fields is one of the few justifications of having a 4x4 vehicle! And, in return for this natural bounty, I turn up at their houses at Christmas with a case of good red wine!”
More than a decade on, the garden is relatively under control and Frank has the measure of his planting and conditions; the wildlife, however, remains resolutely determined to maintain their visitor status.
Areas of fencing help keep out the rabbits and hares, but the fallow deer will jump most barriers. Voles, meanwhile, make themselves busy at ground level. Yet Frank remains sanguine in the face of his uninvited guests. “The animals can sometimes be a problem, but the birdsong is one of the great pleasures of this garden – it’s wonderful.”
And Frank has achieved another goal, too. “I now open the garden under Scotland's Gardens Scheme about eight times a year. It’s lovely to meet people and raise funds for charity,” he says, cheerfully. “I work on the garden all the time, it’s obsessive and increasingly so: gardening is what I do, basically.”