Tribute to a dear friend: Age and beauty in the garden
West Chester resident Jane Antley, a dear friend of mine, died earlier this year. Jane started out as my tax accountant, but quickly became a friend as we bonded over a mutual love of plants and nature. I hadn’t even known she was sick; from what I understand, I think that only her family knew. At any rate, an aggressive cancer took Jane from this world at just 57, and I am heartbroken. In tribute, I share this column from June 2018.
Jane Antley and I have been friends for years, yet while I’d seen her garden before, I’d never actually spent any time in it. It was always too cold or rainy on previous visits to her home in the Borough of West Chester. Last week, however, I happened to arrive on one of the prettiest days we’ve had this spring.
Jane took me on a tour, under the auspices of having me inspect the ancient silver maple tree in her back yard. In the process, I discovered that her garden has a little bit of everything. I don’t mean that it’s jammed full of hundreds of different plants. Rather, as we wandered through the smallish, narrow yard, I realized that Jane has intuitively managed to include nearly all of the elements that might be in a garden, and in a lovely balance.
Along with the big maple tree, there are shrubs, perennials, vines, self-sowing biennials, some lawn, sun/shade, fencing, and a sitting area. Curved planting-bed lines and different heights of plants soften the existing stark, straight lines. These create interest, draw the eye upward, and make the space appear larger than it is. This is a garden that invites you in.
There is also a statue of St. Francis, patron saint of animals and ecology, which Jane inherited from her mother. Situated underneath a mock orange, the statue makes a lovely still point among the moving lines.
Birds love the safety of the shrubs. Bees love the blossoms. So, along with the flora, there’s some fauna as well, including Jane’s Spaniel and Tabico who enjoy the ecosystem that thrives even under what she describes as “benign neglect.”
There’s one other element that I found, but which I’ve never seen mentioned in any garden books or seminars, and until Jane asked me to look at the old silver maple, it hadn’t occurred to me. That element is Age.
The tree has lost its oldest limbs. What provides the delicious shade are the leaves on the new “leaders” that grew up after the big old limbs died and fell off. The tree stands as a sort of matriarch of Jane’s garden and a denizen of the neighborhood.
I took a close look at the tree, noticed some ominous-looking but probably not immediately critical fungus on a few bits of bark near the base. I also noticed how healthy all the upper branches looked. Our joint prognosis: the tree has some good years of life in it. Jane was relieved; she loves that tree and the shelter it provides for wildlife.
Every year gardeners are barraged with dozens of new species. It’s easy to be captivated by what’s touted as trendy and not realize how important are the “faithful” plants growing in our gardens. Until a tree gets too old, we may not realize how much we value its cooling shade or how it anchors the landscape. Until we can no longer find a prized variety, we might not realize how valuable it was to us.
Like many gardeners I’ve interviewed, Jane protested at the idea of my featuring her property, certain that her garden isn’t worth writing about. Yes, I saw the weeds and things that needed trimming. I saw the empty spots where plants didn’t survive the installation of a new fence. But for me, the beauty of a garden has a lot to do with the feel of the place.
Jane’s backyard is a reminder that gardening is more about change and acceptance than it is about perfection. Gardening is about seasons that come and go, plants we love, plants that die. It’s about an old, awkward looking tree that is still generous with its shade; like a wrinkled old grandmother that gathers her grandchildren on her lap and lets them feel the strong power of love that still resides within.
Note: I look at my original title, “Age and beauty in the garden,” and think: Jane wasn’t granted an old age, but she was one of the most beautiful people I’ve even known. Thank you for letting me share a bit of her story with you.