In my humble opinion, the best book on gardening is “The Principles of Gardening: The Classic Guide to the Gardener’s Art” by Hugh Johnson.
First published in 1979 and still widely available through Internet vendors, this book, above all, will inspire you to grab a shovel or trowel or shears and start planting, pruning, or propagating right away.
I have always thought that good garden writing creates a sense of urgency in the reader to actually start engaging in what author Johnson calls “the gardener’s art.” He writes that this is a “complex art,” unlike painting, sculpture, or poetry. Instead of a blank canvas, a block of stone, or an empty page, you start with a plot of ground subject to “a kaleidoscope of variables.” Weather can change radically from one day to the next; a sunny exposure may become shady as trees grow overhead, and pests may suddenly threaten your flowers or crops.
For Johnson, not only are no two gardens the same, but no two days in the garden are the same either. For him, “the essence is control.” No garden, even one consisting of native plants, can be left to its own devices. Without close guardianship of what you plant, the expansive growth of one species may soon overwhelm its neighbors.
The book allows readers to jump around from one chapter to the next since each covers a subject that stands on its own. Subjects include everything from global weather patterns to local climate considerations, as well as the selection of shrubs, growing ferns and mosses, and fruit gardens. Hardscape options are discussed, and introductions to water and sculpture gardens are offered.
One of the most intriguing chapters concerns the origins of garden design. There are two basic styles: formal and informal. Formal design dates back to the ancient Egyptians, whose practice was to plant along straight furrows or channels dug for irrigation purposes.
This style was reinforced and exaggerated by the Romans for a different reason: a desire to demonstrate control over nature. Not only were plants installed in straight lines, but they were trimmed and clipped into geometric forms and topiaries in defiance of the natural look. You can thank the Romans for boxwood hedges, ivy spheres, and bay laurel (Laurus nobilis) topiaries still in evidence today. The best examples of this style are seen at the Getty Villa peristyle gardens — a peristyle is a courtyard framed by colonnades or rows of pillars — in Malibu. Admission to the Getty Villa gardens is free, but you’ll need to make a reservation at tickets.getty.edu. Expect to pay for parking.
The informal garden style — of which the English garden is the most notable type — dates to the late 17th century when Jesuit missionaries began sending sketches of Chinese Imperial gardens back to England. These “gardens” were essentially hunting grounds dotted with pagodas, winding paths, and indigenous vegetation. Chinese plants were also sent to England, creating an appetite for exotic botanical fare. It is also thought that this era’s painters of idealized landscapes had an influence on the emerging garden style. It was during this time that an Englishman, William Kent, widely considered to be the first landscape architect, brought nature into the backyard. Before Kent, landscapes and gardens were not integrated into domestic living spaces. If there was a garden spot outside your door, it was devoted to growing vegetables.
Kent leapt over the backyard fence and found his way home with nature beside him. The English garden, in its original formulation, was a collection of plants grown from seeds harvested from wildflowers growing in the English countryside. Furthermore, architecture was a fine art that had an almost holy aspect to it, and the thought of obscuring the contours of an artfully designed structure with trees was unthinkable. Before Kent, trees were confined to parks and large estates and not part of most people’s everyday experience, unless you lived on a farm. For the first time, thanks to Kent, trees were planted next to the facades of buildings.
Getting back to the formal style, I must confess to being delightfully surprised by a formal landscape in Sherman Oaks consisting of three layers: spheres of youpon holly (Ilex vomitoria) with compact myrtle (Myrtus communis var. Compacta) below it and laurustinus (Viburnum tinus) above. Both the myrtle and the holly are pruned in the conventional way, edged evenly along their sides and top, but here I must pause to focus on youpon holly. Youpon holly is the only plant native to North America with caffeine in its foliage. Native to the Southeast, its leaves were long-brewed by Indigenous people into a stimulating drink (and a tea is commercially available). Note: Never consume youpon berries since they are toxic to people and all mammals (although birds dine on them).
Incidentally, the “vomitoria” part of youpon holly’s name, Ilex vomitoria, was provided by colonists who saw Native Americans throwing up after drinking tea from these leaves. However, the leaves themselves were not an issue; elements of other plants were included in the brew to produce the desired emetic, cleansing effect. Unfortunately, this misconstrued species name stuck.
California native of the week: I want to thank environmental educator Jenny Iyer for informing me that the oldest tree in California is not a redwood or a bristlecone pine but an oak growing in the Jurupa Valley, around 10 miles from the city of Riverside. The plant in question actually consists of 70 Jurupa oak (Quercus palmeri) stem clusters, only three feet tall, that stand together as a flowering, non-acorn producing clonal colony in the form of a thicket, 82 feet long by 26 feet wide, estimated to be at least 13,000 years old. One of the reasons for this oak colony’s success is the presence of lignotubers, swollen structures just beneath the soil surface, with a function similar to that of bulbs. Lignotubers store starch and contain dormant buds that sprout after fire — an essential element of chaparral ecosystems — has burned above-ground growth. Coast redwoods (Sequoia sempervirens) have burls at the base of their trunks that function as lignotubers and certain species of ceanothus and manzanita have lignotubers too. Under normal growing conditions, this oak species develops into a shrub or small tree, not exceeding 20 feet tall. At sheffields.com, you can order six Quercus palmeri acorns for $9.95.
Have you designed your garden in a certain way? If so, let me know which plants you chose and how you situated them at joshua@perfectplants.com. Your questions and comments as well as gardening conundrums and successes are always welcome.
