The new garden is still entirely in the planning stage—that half-fantasy, half-high-precision virtual mode.
It’s the stage when one assumes—quite rashly—that rare native plants listed in gardening books will necessarily be available locally or at least from online retailers.
It’s the stage when the brain can leap over a matter of four or five years—or even fifteen—to envision a tree at its full height.
The stage when one assumes that the stated average rainfall will be reached each year.
The stage at which it sometimes seems possible even to discount the presence of rabbits.
The stage at which—most improbably of all—one assumes no impulse buying on the part of the gardener.
Alas, such is not the reality of gardening. I know it quite well. I swing between such brazen fantasies and careful selection of known plants on reliable websites.
Reality, however, is none the worse for a bit of both dreaming and planning. And in this case, I’m certain my garden plans will be much the better for a great deal of prioritization.
And so I thought I would set out some of my ideas here as I approach the first planting season. I’ve given it months of thought already, so although much may go out the window over time and given the blandishments of a Real Live Garden Center with Things In Bloom, here are my starting points.
The single most important factor here, to my mind, is the location. It is not even the climate; that comes in as an adjunct of the location.
The main garden will be at the rear of the house, an area which looks over the lower San Pedro River valley and then across at the Galiuro Mountains. It is a magnificent view, and it is an intensely remarkable region.
The San Pedro River is the last major, undammed, desert river in Arizona. It has ceased to flow year-round, but it is still a very important ecosystem. While attention and protection have been increasing for its upper sections in the far south of the state, there seems to be less focus on this lower section of it, which feeds into the Gila River, long a life source for both animals and native agriculture.
It is also said to host two thirds of the bird species in the US, being a migratory passageway as well as an important breeding area. I’ve already seen quite a few birds I know and even sighted a Phainopepla shortly after we moved in—a first for me. And this is the low season. I’m excited for autumn bird watching. I am already seeing a great deal of migratory butterfly activity.
Now, we are not in the valley, but well up above it. And across it, our neighbors to the east are the Galiuro Mountains, a rugged, sparsely populated, and most magnificent pile to look at each day—except when the clouds conceal them.
In short, this is the high Sonoran Desert. It has milder summers than the low desert, colder winters, and a bit more moisture. In fact, this area normally receives almost twice as much rain as my garden in Phoenix did. At about fourteen inches per year, that’s still not much, but the difference is very visible. The native vegetation here is lusher and grows more densely, as well as higher.
It is difficult for me to estimate what this will mean for the garden, particularly since we have just passed through an unusually wet monsoon season. While the rest of the West parched in record drought and heat, this southern, monsoon-affected part of the Southwest has basked in frequent rainfall over July and August, some of it quite heavy. It has, in fact, ended the short-term drought locally, though the long-term drought is still very much with us.
I’m sure it won’t be like this every year!
What does all of this mean?
I am planning for a low-water-use garden, while at the same time expecting to receive more from nature than I did in Phoenix. I hope to rely more heavily on native plants and so produce a garden that reflects the essence and excitement of its location. This, in turn, should make for better-adapted, more resilient plantings.
At the same time, I expect to use the well-adapted exotics and Mediterranean plants as needed. I fell in love with a number of Australian species and cultivars in my earlier garden, and some will probably find homes here. This is a garden in the traditional sense, not strictly a wild or native planting.
However, I am planning on working toward a more adapted plant palette here than in my Phoenix garden. This is partly because I wish to do my part to conserve this special region. Also I believe it is more feasible in this area of slightly kinder climate conditions. While I don’t expect to make a no-water-added garden, I think I can come much closer.
Now, as my long-time garden friends know, I love roses. Yes, there will be roses.
In Phoenix I learned a lot about growing roses under very hot, very dry conditions. In the end, I felt that wise selection was as important for roses as for any other garden plant. All roses do not require the same conditions!
I found that the large, ever-blooming shrubs had much more difficulty recovering from the heat of summer, from the necessarily twice-annual periods of semi-dormancy for both heat and cold. The lighter, rapidly repeating bush roses did better, and the miniatures were nearly unstoppable.
So this time I intend to do some further experimentation. I expect to start with some of the antique tea roses, perhaps try even some of the old Pernetianas. I will let opportunity and growing results guide me, but that is where I plan to begin.
(Of course, at this point, I am so hungry for roses that one good container in bloom would probably leap wildly into my cart at any garden center.)
But the plan is to start an experiment with the old teas. Some of these were florists’ roses in the nineteenth century, and Italian growers are said to have allowed them to go more or less fully dormant during the dry, Mediterranean summers, only to come back with bountiful bloom as weather cooled. Whether or not I can reproduce that effect here remains to be seen.
There will be miniature roses. There will be lavenders. There will be hummingbird and bee plantings. There may even be fruit and vegetable plantings, though I’ve always been best with strictly ornamental gardening!
There is a small, carefully constructed pond in the middle of the yard, which I hope to bring back to life eventually. It has been collecting rainwater and is obviously of some importance to wildlife.
As I say, it’s all in the planning stages here. But that’s a most exciting place for a garden.
About the Garden-To-Be
I enjoyed reading about your plans which sound so sensible and make me wish I’d thought more about setting up our garden before jumping in boots and all. I did try, but I’m the kind of gardener who has to have one of everything within the constraints of climate and there’s no trusting me in a nursery! I love the countryside you have around you. Such broad expanses and wonderful views of wether approaching. It all sounds very exciting.
Amy, if your garden is a small fraction as beautiful as your words, it will be exquisite. I love Kris P's suggestion for rain harvesting. A friend in Cape Town did a magnificent job during their severe drought with all sorts of containers, small and large. I was thinking you may be able to get 44 gallon drums over there, I believe you call them 55 gallon drums, i was thinking that may work for rain catching, but they are very expensive there. I know the birds and butterflies will love your new home and garden, I wonder if some prickly pears would encourage them. Lots of love, luck and beauty to you.