This morning Chloe and I were walking her gardens with our coffees as usual, and I was reminded that we had last discussed anchoring a garden, and the relationship with a similar concept, “echoing.”

“So tell me,” I asked her. “What exactly is echoing?”

“You have to think of a garden like a painting,” she answered. “Why is it that one sometimes looks at a painting and immediately is struck with the beauty of it, before you ever have time to get into the detail?”

Before I had time to formulate an answer, she continued:

“It’s because the artist has anticipated in his design, walking your eye through the work once completed. You remember when you and I and our friend Unmarid went to that art gallery in Orlando, and he walked around squinting at the paintings? He wasn’t interested in the detail. He was looking at the bare bones of the piece, the anchoring elements we talked about yesterday, and evaluating how these elements would lead you through the painting.”

Here I nodded in agreement. Unmarid Eitharong was a wonderful artist friend of ours, and a number of his works grace our house.

“Well,” she continued, “a garden can be considered similar to a piece of art, and echoing helps lead the eye through it.”

“Oh,” I commented, purposely a little naively. “I thought one just bought a plant that one might find pretty, and stuck it in the ground.”

“Not at all,” she said, with a little side glace at me implying that she knew I knew better.

“Placing is essential, both of plants and architectural elements alike to help create an overall harmonious note. This actually is essential when creating art in general. The true artist does it instinctively.”

“Let me give you some examples, she said.”

“This is one of our side doors,” she said. “Look how there is symmetry of elements. One side of the entrance echoes the other, with the symmetry between the two doors themselves, the two columns, the two chairs, all anchored by the symmetrically placed blue flower pots, which, by the way, are not identical in shape. Only in color. Echoing doesn’t have to be precisely identical. Exact symmetry can actually be boring.”

“Wow, that’s amazing,” I said. “I never realized that.”

“Let me give you another example.”

See how the red Monarda (Bee Balm) is echoed on either side of the lawn, unifying the two gardens. Let me show you yet another example.”

“Notice how the hydrangeas on either side of the driveway echo each other. Oh, and by the way,” she added, “that is Beau in the back. It is our daughter Claudia’s dog that we are dog sitting for a while for her. Let me show you another example.”


“This is our pond. Notice that there are actually two ponds, joined by a waterfall in between” (The waterfall is not clearly visible, but is vertically in the center of the picture). “The two purple pots at either end of the waterfall,” she continued, “echo each other.”

“And,” I added, not wanting to appear completely ignorant, “the echoing of the yellow Chasta daisies in the water enhances the photo as well.”

“Good point, “she noted approvingly. “Look, I don’t want to bore you too much…” (She must have noticed my attention starting to wander a little), “but let me give you one last example. The two pictures below would be better if seen side by side.” (Author will get better technique with time).

And now the second picture:


“These two pictures are close ups of the front steps up to our front door. It’s a close up of the picture we used to talk about anchoring. See how the two statues, the two purple hydrangeas, and the white hydrangeas, all echo each other?”

We walked in silence for a little while, and then she added:

“Echoing is an essential tool to unify and harmonize a garden.”

“You know what would create harmony to my eye right now?” I asked.

She looked at me a little suspiciously.

“Another cup of coffee,” I said.

“Good idea,” she retorted, as we headed into the house.