Anchoring a garden

Today, as Chloe and I sat by the pond sipping our coffees, I asked her about a concept I had heard her refer to a few times earlier, and which I had not really understood at that time, specifically, "anchoring a garden."

"It has to do with the bare bones of the garden," she told me.

"You have to imagine the presence of these elements alone. Anchoring structures have permanency. Usually they are large, but don't necessarily need to be so. And usually they are present in both summer and winter, so when other plants loose their leaves, the garden will have at least these elements to maintain interest when all the other plants either die or are dormant."

"For example," she told me, "look at our house." (Picture below).

"The house, which is large, would look ridiculous if it were to contain around it, only small plants. So it is anchored by larger ones. On either side of the main door, there are two tall evergreens/arborvitae, and at the foot of the entrance steps there are two hydrangeas, currently blooming in purplish pink. And also on either side of the front door, closer to the door itself, there are two camelias/Sasanquas, which, incidentally are also evergreens, and have beautiful white blooms, very early in spring."

"Oh, I get you," I added. "So those are the only anchors, right?

"No," she told me. "There is more. The garden is also anchored by the other larger plants. For example, look to either side of the house, at each corner, where there are two oak leaf hydrangeas. They are anchors also, and have some architectural value, even when bare of their leaves in winter."

"Now as I look at the house," I told her, "I see these large plants in harmony with the size of the house, and the surrounding tall trees. This, plus the tall front door, not to mention the colums, all add to the visual effect which pleases the eye."

"So only tall plants can work as anchors?" I asked her so as to clarify the concept a little further.

"No," she replied.

"Your kidding!" I exclaimed. "So you can anchor a garden with elements which are not plants?"

"Of course," she replied. "Anything which is a large focal point, like a sculpture for example, can also serve as an anchor. Look at the sculpture of the horse's head over there in that other garden (see photo).

"The horse's head is anchoring that particular garden. As the different flowers and plants around it come into and go out of bloom, and in some cases die in the fall, that sculpture of the horse's head will remain as a source of interest, even through the harshest winter."

"Wow! Interesting,! I exclaimed. "I never thought of that."

"Now let me take you back to the photo of the front of the house," I said. I see the strong pinks on either side of the entrance steps. And as I look at either corner I see the pinkish white of the the oak leaf hydrangeas. And between them, I see, on either side, the intense white of the Annabells, yet another variety of hydrangeas that also grace the front door garden. Is that part of the anchoring process?"

"No, not at all," she said. "Now you are talking about echoing. Another concept which can be intwined with anchoring. The evergrees are both anchors, and at the same time echo each other."

"Tell you what," I told her, after a slight pause. "My coffee is cold and has bugs in it, and I need a fresh cup. Lets go inside, and leave echoing for tomorrow."

"Good idea," she said, as we walked back into the house.

It was good to get back into the air conditioning, because even at 9:30 in the morning the day was already announcing itself as a scorching one.