Nandina:
I'm in the process of letting Mother Nature restore my garden to the sort of woods that were here before the first American settlers arrived on the PNW shores some 150 years ago,

But it is a very selective restoration process, in which I let her plant some things, but put my foot down and pull up others without remorse.

For one thing, a full restoration is hardly possible because this area was a temperate rain forest before loggers and settlers cleared the land. I suspect the rain forest would be back within a few decades, if Mother nature had her way. She starts by planting red alders, which form thickets in just a year or two (and put nitrogen into the soil). In their shade, grow mosses and ferns, which are soon augmented by native shrubs like salmonberry, thimbleberry, huckleberry, and salal and by bigleaf maple, vine maple, and wild cherries, as well as conifers (primarily western redcedar and Douglas-fir). Alders are short-lived, and when they fall, they serve as nurse logs for shrubs and trees.

The lot my house sits on was a tangle of [non-native] blackberries when this house was built in 1987. When I took over in 1993, many of the blackberries remained. The rest of the garden was covered by rolled-out sod. I fought Mother Nature for the first few years -- when she tried to tell me that I should only pant native perennials, shrubs, and trees -- and I'm glad I did. Otherwise I would not now have mature camellias, flowering cherries and plums, and magnolias. Nor would I have apple and plum trees to provide me with fresh fruit during the autumn.

But Mother Nature nixed roses, and I did not replant them. She snuck in birches, Douglas-firs and redcedar, and I let them be, She tried to plant alders, but I have a neurotic neighbor who hates alders (because they are a favorite food of aphids), and the alders stood no chance: I let her pull them. I had mixed feelings about salmonberry and thimbleberry, because they can become invasive, so I let them grow in only a few spots (but they keep trying to take over). I encouraged wild mosses and ferns, which helped me get rid of the rolled-out sod.

As the density of the border plantings increased, Mother nature sent her animal to share the garden -- raccoons, skunks, garter snakes, Steller's jays, robins, song sparrows, towhees, chickadees, bushtits, hummingbirds, and other creatures. They are welcome to stay, as long as they don't become too aggressive). So far, they haven't, with the possible exception of those feisty hummingbirds who try to tell m that they own the garden and I shouldn't be in it.

I am not worried about the garden becoming a rampant tangle of shrubs and trees, because in nature, as in the garden, not all seedlings survive. Mature trees and shrubs die and leave openings for new growth -- nature is never static. Since Mother Nature and man work to different time frames, I'm going to have to help her out by cutting back or removing some of the shrubs and trees that are trying to push out their neighbors.

So far, this seems to be working. Right now. the garden is a pleasant mix of native and introduced shrubs and trees. Which is something I enjoy very much. As the garden matures further, I see the natives taking over more space. But that, too, is fine. It will be an interesting process to watch (and document).

John, your property sounds lovely. I am taking a similar approach in my back and side yards..."judicious encouragement" I call it. The birds plant privet--I yank it the minute I see it. Ditto sweet gums too near the house. Dogwoods and redbud get to stay...as does the periwinkle. Black and garter snakes I encourage--copperheads I respectfully dislike. I've got TONS of trout lillies--and some other native flowers I need to identify (look like some form of white windflower)--no trilium, alas.

melanie

Melanie:
Fortunately we have no poisonous snakes in western Washington.

I finally got a trillium, but it took ten years (I wonder how that seed got here?). I also have red-flowering current, which is a native flowering shrub, and native wild roses (which are beginning to cover my katsura tree arbor).

I like your phrase, "judicious encouragement."

John,
Well, remember--my function in this forum is wordsmith, definitions queen, and getting ragged on because I can't spell common words, am incapable of proofreading, and think faster than I can type. AND I've needed a new keyboard for AT least 9 months--maybe a year!

I think the deer eat the trillium around here. Trout lillies must taste bad. Wish I could encourage the native phlox that's growing a 1/4 mile from here in the woods to "come on oever..." any suggestions? It's breath-taking--I'll try and get a pic this afternoon if it doesn't rain.

melanie

Melanie:
Check out the soil, light, and moisture conditions under which the phlox grows and hope for the best. I killed several plantings of phlox and rock rose before I realized that my garden is too moist and shady for them. But they grow like weeds in the sere and sunny parts of the neighborhood.

There's another restoration scheme I could try, but I;m not into vegetable gardening: until the 1950s, this neighborhood overlooked the largest salmon cannery in the world and had a large bunkhouse for Chinese workers. The Chinese cooks laid out large gardens where they grew vegetables. We still find pieces of Chinese drain pipe now and then while digging, as well as odd pieces of Chinese porcelain (they must have had tea parties in their gardens and broken a cup now and then).

Computer ate my reply--let's try this again.
{{gwi:1186949}}
When the trees leaf out this is VERY shady. I wouldn't transplant the phlox--have thought about collecting seeds. Would that be kosher? The plants are on land owned and maintained by our HOA...

melanie

That's lovely! I can see why you want some. There's nothing wrong with collecting seeds, since you won't hurt the plants.

To one who lives where rain is scarce and treasured, it is quite amazing to picture trees slowly taking over garden space! Thank you all for your vivid descriptions.

Nandina, you paint a beautiful and vivid picture of the joys that a fine garden or landscape can bring. With a childhood like that, it is no wonder that you wound up doing professional work in this field. Did you ever find out what happened to the mansion itself? It sounds as though there was a good deal of human intervention required (demolition, removal, etc.) to allow Mother Nature to reclaim this space -- ironic.

I've been thinking a bit lately about the fact that many of what we now think of as "public" gardens were in fact originally designed as private estates. I wonder to what extent "restored to nature" has become the fate of other such estates.