Playing in the dirt

backyards evolve, just as houses do, even during the course of one family’s tenancy.

The swing set comes down and a big swath of lawn is reserved for badminton. During the busy years of careers and kids, overly ambitious plantings devolve into scraggly bushes tarted up with pots of annuals. Nobody bothers with the weed-whacker.

This year, our 120-year-old willow, which has been a massive presence on the main road but was weeping toward the street at a dangerous angle, had to be removed. We felt so sad— only to find that the tree’s absence delivers sunshine over an area of what had been deeply shaded crabgrass. Now the space will support flowers and a raised bed of vegetables.

Once again, I’m ready to think about my yard as a design project! I’ve been inspired by the summertime photos in this issue. A small yard became beautiful living space with the addition of pergola-covered decks and seating tucked behind a garden folly (p. 54). A breezy summerhouse provides enclosure for a garden filled with heirloom plants (p. 68).

Our property has some good bones, thanks to outcroppings and a wall of Cape Ann granite, but it feels unfinished. I need to look at it the way we do the interior of the house: as a whole and as rooms with underlying architecture, permanent features, colors, and furnishings. It’s time to collect ideas, make a plan, develop a budget, find some help, and get to work.

The bucolic “photo” above was created by artificial intelligence. (Nothing else in the issue is fake! My purposeful use here is to make a point.) As I look at the gabled old house, mature trees and colorful flowers behind a white picket fence, it strikes me that I wish my garden could come together as quickly as AI made this pretty picture. No digging, weeding, mulching, planting, fertilizing, watering. Wouldn’t that be something?