In honor of the HPSO Fall Plant Sale coming up this weekend, I will post about a marvelous garden. Last year, when I visited the Quirk & Neill garden (a collector’s garden with many unusual plants), they generously directed me to the Westwind Farm Studio as an example of a completely different approach to gardening. Here, the plant material is familiar, but used in great sweeping swathes that eventually melt into the surrounding 40 acres of natural landscape. So as not to overdo a good thing, I will break this down into three consecutive posts.
From the parking area, a path winds up the hill. In most cases, dried seedheads and flowers have been left in place, as on this crocosmia.
Tons of massive stone were brought in. We are introduced to the idea of stonework amidst plantings with these stone steps taking us over the brow of the hill to the level where the house reveals itself. It was designed by the late, great Pietro Belluschi.
The back deck of the house overlooks this bed, where a large stand of Solidago ‘Fireworks’ rises above muhly grass and Perovskia, establishing a theme of repetition that holds throughout the property.
The next bed picks up the theme and riffs on it.
Rivers of lambs’ ears define many of the borders, this one overlooking the view of the valley.
The muhly grass reappears as a border plant. Earlier in the season, the Echinacea, grown in abundance, set the hillside aflame. Now the seedheads have been left standing. There are birds everywhere.
Grass is used sparingly, providing a nice cushy walking surface.
Huge stones are worked into the plantings masterfully, and even jut out from paved surfaces here and there, making it look as if they were native to the site. The building on the left is a yoga studio overlooking the pool.
Not too many places on my radar could provide the perfect setting for a monumental sculpture.
Ah, the good life.
There’s that muhly grass again, this time surrounding a pond with waterfall.
Leaving the house level, another path takes us up the back hill. The bright noonday sun fades the color, but the birds and the bees were working over this hillside like nobody’s business.
Dried flower heads of Achillea make for an autumnal composition. And that’s it for today’s installation of this three-part series. I must warn you: tomorrow we will visit the greenhouse, so if eliminating envy is high on your list of resolutions, you might want to steer clear.