When we first moved into our house, the front garden was lawn, cement paths and a white rusty iron fence with an inexplicably unpainted gate. There were some small flower beds that were so in name only.
Although the inside of the house needed a complete overhaul, we turned our attention in that first year to the front yard, because nature takes a while to establish itself. Our excitement soared as we imagined our wild garden to come.
The lawn was kikuyu and, as anybody who’s had kikuyu knows, it doesn’t go easily. We called in a landscaper to remove it, but they wanted to poison it. Instead the front lawn was covered in black plastic for 3 months. I’m sure every passerby was curious at our lack of shame!
But the kikuyu lost, we won. And decades later, has still not returned.
We dug up the paths a little at a time, and got rid of the cracked concrete driveway, to put down paving instead. We planted trees and bushes across the front to protect us from the noise of the street and filled in behind them with a mix of native and non-native.
The garden bloomed beautifully.
But plants are ephemeral. After decades of service, the last of the originally planted trees was taken down a few months ago. The remaining branches were cut long to make edging for new garden beds, even now supporting the community that is our front wilderness.
We still have three trees left, planted after those initial pioneers, and the garden is now evolving, with new plants planted and a different vista opening up.
While they live, the plants in our wild front garden give us beauty, flowers, scents and oxygen. They break up our soil and hold it together. They guard us from strong winds. They provide natural compost with their leaves and twigs. They nurture the bees and other insects. They provide a haven for skinks and geckos, and even the occasional blue tongue and stumpy lizard. They give us an ever-changing view of birds as they visit and feed.
Such a different environment from the old lawn and concrete. Bustling, lively, alive.
And so exquisitely worthwhile.
Joni Page 