Evolution of the Front Garden

I was devastated when the huge ash tree in the front yard succumbed to emerald ash borer and was cut down by the city.

But this was an opportunity to totally redo the garden!

We planted a red oak and dozens of sun-loving native meadow plants. Below is a photo of the new garden on planting day, May 2018.

Planting day, May 28, 2018

Here it is, a year later, August 2019.

The native meadow plants have flourished with very little maintenance and almost no supplementary watering. Below, the front garden at the beginning of its third growing season, May 2020.

And here it is, flourishing in late summer of its third growing season, August 2020.

Chard and the Creeper

Every year, I plant Swiss chard from seed in a large-ish pot along the front walkway.

Some Virginia creeper volunteered in the spot, and I love the way it rambles. I cut the creeper back every now and again but allow it to cool the space.

May, 2021

The young Swiss chard leaves always get munched by leaf miners but I don’t do much other than squish them. I figure that the leaf miner season is short and the chard is indestructible. Maybe one year I’ll cover the newly planted chard with a row cover…

June, 2021

August 2021

But for the past few years, the chard has flourished with almost no care, and the creeper has done its thing. Generosity!

Walkway Veggies

At the beginning of the pandemic, I was anxious to maximize food production in every available space not already growing native plant habitat. That meant bumping up production in the walkway between our house and the neighbour’s.

Tomatoes, peppers and basil in the sunny walkway beside the house.

Herbs also do well in pots in this spot.

Next year, more kale!

Lovely Little Fumitory

I’ve made a new friend: rock harlequin (Corydalis sempervirens, aka Capnoides sempervirens), a fumitory.

Rock harlequin (Corydalis sempervirens) in our front garden.

I’d vaguely known about this plant (I love all the fumitories) but had never grown it until this year, when Jonas Spring (aka Ecoman) gave me a seedling and suggested I plant it in a gravelly, poor-soil spot. I had just the place—a small sunny corner beside the wild blue lupine (Lupinus perennis). (I read later that rock harlequin grows in Midwestern oak savannas, too.)

I immediately fell for its lacy foliage, but it’s the delicate, tubular, bi-coloured flowers that really captured my heart: peachy pink and yellow.

My love for this little charmer grew even stronger when I was surprised by a little patch of it during a canoe trip at Point Grondine Park. There it was, blooming on some rocks at our campsite, and I felt such a deep connection between our temporary living quarters on the granite Shield and out little patch of garden at home.

Rock harlequin (Corydalis sempervirens) at Point Grondine Park.

Very much hoping that this biennial self-seeds and shows up in the garden again next year.