News from the Genus garden in France - The firepit
This garden is quite a challenge. At one hectare, it's a substantial plot, and when we arrived, it was something of a wilderness. Part field, part rubbish dump, there was certainly no shortage of work to be done. Rather than tackle the whole lot at once, we're gradually bringing it under control, one section at a time.
With open fields on three sides and little protection from the fierce Atlantic winds that sweep in from the west, our first priority was to create some shelter. So, back in March, we planted no fewer than 1,000 bare-root native hedging plants along three boundaries. We chose a mixture of species: Prunus spinosa (blackthorn), Corylus avellana (hazel), Viburnum opulus (guelder rose), Rosa canina (dog rose), Rhamnus cathartica (purging buckthorn), Crataegus monogyna (hawthorn), Euonymus europaeus (spindle) and Cornus sanguinea (dogwood).
Keeping all those young plants alive through this summer's ferocious heat was quite an undertaking. Watering the entire hedge took six hours, and there were times when it felt like a never-ending task. But the effort paid off, and I'm delighted to say we lost remarkably few plants.
The large field area is gradually being transformed into woodland. We planted the first forest trees last winter, with more to follow this coming winter. In front of these, we're planning a collection of ornamental trees, with an orchard of apples, pears, plums and cherries alongside. It will be some years before the trees reach maturity, of course, but that's part of the pleasure of gardening — imagining what a place might become.
Meanwhile, we're also working on the bones of the garden: laying out paths, shaping the landscape and creating spaces where people can gather and enjoy their surroundings.
The firepit in the photograph is a good example of making use of what we inherited. Built from stone that had been discarded around the site, it has given otherwise unwanted material a new purpose. I can already imagine neighbours gathering around it on a summer evening, enjoying a glass of something and putting the world to rights.
There's still an enormous amount to do, but slowly, the garden is beginning to take shape. And perhaps the most satisfying thing is watching what was once a rather neglected piece of land gradually become somewhere worth spending time.
