Every garden is a story of how the gardener has partnered with / responded to their environment. We started planning with a wishlist and our environment, in turn, gave us a reality check.

 

We moved in the fall – a season I dearly missed in TX.

We moved in the fall – a season I dearly missed in TX.

An eerie, early winter view of the front lot, and fog on the lake.

An eerie, early winter view of the front lot, and fog on the lake.

I absolutely, never ever thought winter would be my favorite season; but it is… brief, beautiful, restful winter.

I absolutely, never ever thought winter would be my favorite season; but it is… brief, beautiful, restful winter.

There’s genuine excitement when the trees start to bud again.  This feathery green doesn’t last very long.

There’s genuine excitement when the trees start to bud again. This feathery green doesn’t last very long.

The first garden in early summer, under full canopy. The tall oak on the right was lost in Hurricane Michael, and is now a very large woodpile.

The first garden in early summer, under full canopy. The tall oak on the right was lost in Hurricane Michael, and is now a very large woodpile.

It’s easy to get tripped up by the idea that we need “just right” conditions before starting a garden, or to get discouraged by comparisons between what you’re working with, and someone else situation. Don’t do it. There are advantages and disadvantages in every space; and learning how to adapt to these conditions is how gardening grows us. Even if all you’re working with is a window sill, or a sunny corner in your apartment, you have enough space to tend a little earth.

Right now we’re on more land than we’ve ever had before, and we love the natural environment. However, our previous yard, at barely 20ft x 40ft, was actually a more ideal garden space – no deer, existing fence, full sun, and flat land. It just wasn’t the right long-term living situation for our family, and the neighborhood didn’t permit chickens - Booo!

That being said, I’m sharing our environment, because it’s kind of the main character in this story. I’ve designed to account for our needs, abilities, and limitations, within the parameters of the land’s needs, assets, and limitations. I think that balance is the foundation of good stewardship.


The lay of the land…

Our house sits on one of three adjoined lots that form a little valley, with a dry creek running through it, into a nearby tributary. The highest point, and northernmost lot is 50ft. x 200 ft., entirely wooded, and borders our neighbors home. It’s a regular path for the deer, with lots of tender tree shoots, wild shrubs, (probably some poison ivy) and a few woodland wildflowers in the spring.

My former city-dwelling self, knows that at least two single family homes with backyards could easily be built on that .25 acres. On the flip side, my inner market farmer knows that a cleared 1/4 acre would be an incredibly productive amount of land. However, the environment (and our zoning code) dictates that this stretch of land, is significant for preserving the character, and ecology of our neighborhood; and ultimately, my inner steward agrees. So it’s unbuildable, and we would never clear-cut it for more growing space.

This year, we did carve out a 12x20 area – that only had a few young trees – in order to build a larger garden. Now I know good and well, that even a cleared area in the woods is still likely to be shady. But we went for it anyway because it’s the only relatively flat land, without a giant stump, or a well in the way. The silver lining is that in the winter – when all of the leaves are gone, and our temps are fairly mild – that spot glorious southern exposure for most of the day. So it may not be bursting with tomatoes and squash this summer; but it extends our growing period for cool-season vegetables into late spring, and will hopefully be an ideal spot for a late fall/winter garden.

The third lot sits at the front corner of our home, and is a funky little polygon. This southwestern piece of land is the lowest point, and is adjacent to two neighbors, a tributary for a large river, and a dam/walk path for a small lake. So although it’s .5 acres, it is also fully wooded, and a valuable watershed that reduces flood risk, by being a low-lying end point for the dry creek, and a floodplain for the tributary.

Finally, there’s the middle lot that the house sits on. At .6 acres, it has a deep front yard that is also… fairly wooded and shady. Even after the previous owners had several large trees (in poor health) removed, we still have about ten large oaks in the front. Behind the house are mixed woods; and topography that slopes from north to south, and southeast to northwest– forming the creek bed. There isn’t one level square yard to be found.

So to conclude; ‘tis a dappled, and shady, mostly hilly, kinda magical 1.3. acres. Approximately 370-400sq ft (or .7%) is suitable for growing, with various degrees of sunlight throughout the season; and honestly, that’s just right for us right now. Have you ever taken a little time to observe your environment/ yard/ balcony etc.? Regardless of location, it’s worth it to take stock of the light, terrain, empty sills around - or in - your home. You might find out you have more room to grow than you realize. ;-)


Trees, shoots, rocks & roots…

Before we moved, I – naturally – researched the area that would be our new home. However, unlike the normal real estate related searching, I was studying land surveys and soil types… because of course we were going straight from my container garden in the Austin suburbs to at least a 2 Acre, level pasture, with unobstructed southern exposure, and I needed an ideal soil type for mah crops.

Anyway, what I couldn’t fully grasp from all of that lovely data, was the actual seven-layer dip of sediment that makes up Durham county “soil”. We’ve got clay, sand, assorted rocks, sandy clay, small boulders, tree roots of varying diameters, and a sprinkle of topsoil. So needless to say, nearly all of our gardening is done in raised beds…which happens to be my jam!

Another unexpected up-side, is that working with nigh unworkable soil, and land that slopes in multiple directions, is that I’ve learned how to design/build stable structures on slopes, and cost-effective anchoring solutions that don’t require deep digging – which I will share with our project recaps! All of the rocks we have had to dig up, just became one of our favorite landscaping materials… because they’re free.. and they’re pretty.


Other quick stats…

  • We’re in the NC Piedmont, about midway between the mountains and the coast.

  • Spring, and fall are truly yo-yo seasons, and we’re zone 7/8 depending on the year.

  • Our last frost date is mid-April, and we can still get into the 60’s through December.

  • We have 3 legitimate growing seasons that can be stretched into year-round production with hoop houses, or cold-frames. (Year-round production is a personal goal!)


Thank you for taking the time to read about the land!