Garden accents

“Every man’s work is always a portrait of himself.” (Samuel Butler)

Yes, “A garden is the mirror of a mind.” (Henry Beston)

That is why every garden is unique. Gardens are a reflection of their owner’s sensibilities. And that is why people put accents in their gardens. It’s their mark, what fits their fancy. A piece of garden art here, a simple whimsical sign there…

Accents in a garden can be formal – usually statuary in bronze like our horse here next to this Magnolia tree, with the vineyard in the background.

It fits perfectly on the front lawn adjacent to our own pasture land where our horses Paris and Gracie (not visible here,) graze at leisure.

But stone, particularly marble and granite are also used, and look beautiful amongst the flowers and trees. Here we have a small marble fountain.

…and here one of our great cherubims flanking the front door steps, inviting…

More simple ones, certainly less expensive and commonly used are some concrete pieces. Our St. Francis is a good example.

This pot, a woman’s head, sits on the edge of the pond making it easy to remember to add water.

As is this garden book

whimsical in its sayings:

“Gossip in the Garden”

Good Morning Glory, What’s the Four O’Clock news?
Johnny Jump Up, lost his shoes.
Black eyed Susan has her eye on you.
And the Tulip wants a kiss or two.
Iris just wants Rose to know
Sweet William is her favorite beau.
etc. etc.

And it ends:

Tomorrow who knows what gossip

there will be,
The Flowers are from such a large Family.
Let’s talk again soon.
Good Day Lilly!

Bird baths are also found in gardens. They invite the birds and the butterflies, the dragonflies and even bees.

Fountains do the same, and offer also the sound of dripping water, so pleasant to all. Chloe loves fountains. Here is our large fountain on a misty morning.

And the one at the head of the upper pond.

And let’s not forget that everybody loves whimsical pieces, for they bring a smile to all. Here a simple garden stake says “Mind your Carrots and Peas,” while holding up the Black eyed Susans.

And this simple fairy takes all of us to our childhood and a world of make believe.

As do the bunnies.

Or the playhouse, with Chloe, all sweaty, waiting for the grandkids to give it life. With the grandchildren now all grown up, this little house is now gone from Chloe's garden. It's making a neighbor's kid happy instead. The memories however will be with us for ever.

Formal and function come together in these ironwork pieces. Arches anchor many paths. They mostly support our climbing roses or Clematis.

This one, less formal, is made of Rhododendron branches. It supports climbing roses as well as a wonderfully fragrant Jasmine.

Knowing Chloe’s love for her garden, many friends have brought her gifts. This little horse made it to our house just recently.

Form and function, a touch of the whimsical, come together in this antique manure spreader, which is a great support for potted plants, sometimes even vegetables. And as a bonus in the fall it comes alive with a fragrant white clematis.

Bird houses, feeders and bird accents in general will be presented in a future blog. For now, good morning to you, and thank you for visiting again Chloe’s garden.

Sharing the garden with friends

“There is no delight in owning anything unshared.” Seneca

The creek is without doubt the favorite of Chloe’s gardens. Places like this need to be shared.

Last Friday, June 18th, Chloe was privileged to be visited by a friend from way back, Peggie Armstrong, whom we had known for 23 years since our early days in Fort Myers, Florida. She is now a retiree, living close by.

An artist herself, and an excellent gardener, Peggie had called to see if she could come with some of her artist friends to show them Chloe’s house and gardens. We were flattered to be so recognized, and immediately invited them all to tea and desert and a tour of our place.

After greeting Peggie and our new friends, Chloe made a brief introduction to her gardens around the house. After the usual “oohs” and “ahs” they headed towards our creek.

It was a group of six, including two ladies from Fort Myers that by chance happened to be visiting Peggie at the time. One of them, Paula, had been an acquaintance of Chloe’s previously. She is a wonderful folk artist, and creates beautiful furniture and abstract pieces. She had driven up from Fort Myers with Dore, a good friend of hers, that we also appreciated very much meeting.

In the pictures below, Peggie, Paula and Dore are enjoying the creek area.

Here Vivian, a collage artist and a book illustrator, pauses and appreciates. She came ready to face the summer heat, well protected under her flowery hat.

The dappled light of the creek area induces conversation, and Peggie and Jane share a moment. Jane, a soft spoken lady, lives in Landrum, South Carolina, a quaint town some 15 minutes from Chloe and me. She works for a local real estate attorney, having moved from Atlanta. She is a pastel artist, who creates beautiful portraits.

From the creek the group came to see our pond.

While the other ladies enjoy the fish, Jane took a break to meet Tux, our puppy.

The heat was becoming intense however, and it was time for iced tea, desert and more good conversation indoors. Here Maddie and Paula share a book of pictures.

Maddie is now a farmer who raises Alpacas. But before, she was an event coordinator, having previously organized two festivals in Jacksonville Beach, one of which was a Blues Festival. A lively lady, who came bearing gifts of green eggs and homemade grape jelly.

The walk at the creek had opened our appetites, and soon we were all sitting at the table, sharing lively conversation and delightful deserts without any guilt.


After all, we had been to a place where fairies live, children play and grown ups go back in time. Oh creek…. what a magical place!

Unifying the garden through whites.

White, white, white. I can't emphasize white enough. The human eye perceives it as a brilliant color.” (Beatrice Eiseman)

White is the color of purity, innocence and peace. It offers repose and rests the eye. It is not by coincidence that brides usually wear white.

“White is the light of the forest,” Chloe told me she had heard once.

White flowers are the workhorse of the summer garden, and help with the transition from color to color.

With the strong light of the summer sun, pastels (soft pinks and lavenders for example) don’t work well in the garden any longer. They go unnoticed. So we rely on oranges, yellows, reds, strong purples to bring life to the landscape. White then becomes a necessity to break up these colors. We therefore weave whites throughout the garden beds to either break up the monotony or reduce the gaudiness of those other strong colors.

The summer garden is very different from the spring one. Only certain plants can thrive in the intense summer heat. Usually Black-Eyed Susans (Rudbeckia hirta (Asteraceae)) , dahlias, cannas and gladioli are the general menu of the summer beds. But they need white to break the groupings up and soften up the overall look.

Here is another example:

In the garden, white does not have to be expressed through flowers alone. White can show in variegated leaves. And even in garden accents, which will be the motive for a future blog. Here is the picture of a variegated hydrangea:

As we stroll through the garden, it is a relief to see whites here and there breaking up what would otherwise either be the monotony of just one color, or the cacophony of an unruly garden.

I was walking with Chloe once, and she stooped to pick up a flower. It wasn’t much bigger than a pin head.

“Look at the detail,” she told me. I would have passed by without noticing. That brings me to the delicacy of this Queen Anne’s Lace. What grace, and what perfection! And it is just a wild flower that Chloe has introduced into her garden.
From Wiki:

Daucus carota (common names include wild carrot, (UK) bird's nest, bishop's lace, and (US) Queen Anne's lace) is a flowering plant in the family Apiaceae, native to temperate regions of Europe, southwest Asia and naturalised to northeast North America and Australia; domesticated carrots are cultivars of a subspecies, Daucus carota subsp. sativus.

In early spring white azaleas do the job for us throughout the garden.

As well as do peonies.

White is used for control, and even rhythm and harmony.

"White sings in the garden!" Chloe likes to say.

The light going through this pansy says it all:

Composition in gardening, and photography also

This morning I received an email from a very dear cousin. She, Chloe and I had recently returned from a visit to England together to see our relatives, all of whom (including this particular cousin), I had never met. We later shared photos of the trip, and my cousin commented on how better the pictures I had taken were as compared to hers. She asked what camera had I used which, in her opinion had to have been better than hers.

I emailed her that in my opinion it was not the camera – hers was just as good as mine. But it was in the composition of the picture, and the use of light. So today I would like to emphasize these elements in photography, designing a garden, or even, to some degree, composing a song (right, Alison?)

The absolute first, in my opinion, is the positioning of the subject in the picture, which should always NOT be in the center of the picture. Position it instead “off center,” closer to any of the four corners.

For example, compare this picture, with the one below. The focal point in the first case (same subject, same time) is centered. It makes the photo "boring."

And now the same photo, with the focal point moved to one of the four quadrants:

Secondly, light is our friend. Without light, there would be no life. Light makes our photos sparkle. Of course, when Uncle Freddie has egg all over his face, and you want to document, you can’t ask that he stay that way until the light becomes favorable! But on the other hand look to take photos, (and enjoy your garden also), when the light is more favorable, as, for example, in the picture below.

And in this photograph also:

Composition is a little more complex, but understanding it will allow us, even if we are not photographers, to better understand why certain things that we see, we find particularly appealing. Let’s see the photo below:

This photo, taken from our upstairs veranda at evening, is framed by the trees on either side of the photo. The picture also has strong horizontals. How many are there? I see the horizon, the tree tops, the two fence lines, the vineyard, and, to some degree, the lighted fence of the deck and the roof over the deck, as well as the railing. They all give the picture strength. This is contrasted by the verticals of the two rainbows, as well as the tall trees, particularly the one on the left in the fore front.

Chloe, not only a wonderful gardener, but also a fine artist has known this for years. She recognized the beauty of a rose standing next to a vase next to the window many years ago. She documented it in the painting, “Rose of Winter,” reproduced below. Notice the positioning of the rose itself, the main element, in the upper left quadrant.

Below are photos of flowers I took, early morning, when the light seemed best. Please look at the composition, and the effect of the light. Chloe also wishes to point out that plants with the opposites on the color wheel enhance each other (the yellow and the purple in the upper right hand corner). So for example, when gardening, plant yellows and purples close to each other:

And again, in this photo where reds and greens enhance each other:

Lastly, I while sitting at my desk earlier this morning, I was interrupted by Chloe rushing to grab the camera. She had brought part of her garden indoors in anticipation of a visit with friends and the light was perfect. Below are the pictures she took from inside our house. The white of the flower is enhanced by the dark background:

And also this one:

So, to wrap it up, think of the composition of what you are creating. And remember, “Light is your friend.”

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.