Our Favorite English Garden in September, Part 3 (Or, Anarchy in the UK)
After swooning over the Long Border, the next area we walked through was the Orchard Garden and the High Garden. I’m treating them as a single unit for two reasons. First, I’m not completely sure which pictures were taken in which garden. And second, to me both gardens had the same sense of joyful anarchy. It was an anarchy that was exciting but also possessed a rhythm that staved off total chaos
As I’ve said, I’m not fond of yews, but I do like yew archways that provide a transition from one garden room to another. This would be the entrance to the Orchard Garden.
Is this fantastic or what? I like how the boxwood seems to be struggling to hold back the energetic flowers.
Here’s another yew arch. You can’t have too many of these, in my opinion. If only they didn’t grow so slowly I’d plant a couple of yews where I could prune them into an arch myself.
Here is that joyful anarchy for you. I love how the last blooms of the yellow Oenothera are scattered about. I can’t remember what that plant is behind the yellow Helenium. Anybody know?
These are yew hedges with a difference. I like the sloping sides, so much more interesting than tight right angles. The calming and structural presence of the yews was one of the things that prevented this part of Great Dixter’s garden anarchy from spinning out of control.
Not sure what this grass is, but it’s nice, isn’t it?
OK, this is the last yew arch, I promise. This one I remember leads into the High Garden. It’s an especially fine one, I think. And the stone steps are beautiful.
Here’s a quote from Christopher Lloyd: “The borders are mixed, not herbaceous. I see no point in segregating plants of different habits or habit. They can all help one another.”
I really love this pear tree, its branches gnarled like the hands of an old man, and covered in lichens.
This looks like they decided to plant a Christmas tree in the border.
The Agastache and asters look great with the yellow dahlias. This garden makes me wonder why it is that I don’t grow dahlias.
No shortage of late summer color or height.
Conifers mix happily with annuals and perennials.
From the High Garden you can see the house. The chimneys seem to echo the height of the sunflowers and Joe Pye Weed. What is that truly enormous grass?
This garden made me consider if I too am a garden anarchist. I definitely have those tendencies, though perhaps not to the extent found at Great Dixter (I probably spend too much time staking).
What about you, do you consider yourself a garden anarchist?