Have you ever thought that the contents of a mature garden are a lot like the contents of an address book? Both are home to a cast of characters that includes old and new friends, half-forgotten, casual and fond acquaintances as well as a few individuals – ghosts from another era, another world – that it might be best to finally excise from your life.
Just like mature humans, mature gardens suffer from a variety of undignified, age-related ailments, not least of which is middle-aged spread. So while what I like to think of as a certain seasoned maturity brings many of us (sigh) somewhat fatter waists, trees have what’s called thickening girth, the horticultural term for how their trunks gradually widen over time in response to the increasing weight of their canopy. Similarly it’s not unusual to see thinning of that same canopy (the leafy branches) in aging trees and shrubs, the botanical equivalent of thinning hair. Likewise, poor nutrition – just as with humans – slowly but surely results in ill health and a variety of plant pests and diseases that can lay them low.
On the plus side, with age comes character. So the good news is that no new garden will ever, ever have the charm, mystery or magic of an established one, nor will any lithe young tree or shrub come close to having the presence of a mature specimen. As for that elusive quality called style, there will always be mature gardens whose enduring good looks remain immune to the passing whims of fashion. But (and it is a big but), much as it pains me to say it, there will be others badly in need of an update.
So please forgive me while I whisper in your ear that the variegated poplar that you’ve been promising to get rid of for years is the horticultural version of wearing bootcut jeans, and that leylandii hedge planted by a previous owner is the equivalent to sporting a 1980s perm. As for that mournful, half-dead heather and dwarf conifer bed? Let’s not go there.
On the other hand, respecting the history (this includes both its planting and the hard landscaping elements) of a mature garden is important, especially if it’s one that you’ve only very recently become acquainted with. What might initially appear to be a rather dull shrub could turn out to be a star performer in the winter garden, while that weedy patch of lawn might be home to any number of beautiful spring-flowering bulbs. Those rusty cast-iron railings could be sensitively repaired, while that elderly tree could be given a new lease of life with the help of a skilful tree surgeon. So give yourself at least a year to properly get to know your new-old garden before you make any radical decisions; and, before you do the latter, consider whether it might be money very well spent to employ the services of an experienced garden designer to give you some expert advice.
Objective eye
On the other hand, if it’s a mature garden that you’ve lived with for many years, then try assessing it with the objective eye of a stranger. Perhaps it’s the case that you’ve just stopped seeing it. Or – not uncommon – that you’ve slowly fallen out of love with it or become gradually inured to its charms (just think what a marriage counsellor would make of that).
Ask yourself if there are any woody or shrubby specimens that could be imaginatively pruned, shaped and clipped, their leafy canopies gently lifted or their sculptural limbs exposed in a way that transforms the space they occupy? Or are there views and vistas that would be transformed by a thoughtful, respectful edit? This might be something as simple as reducing the height and width of an overly mature hedge or creating a generously framed entrance, gateway or pathway through it.
Creative pruning aside, are there plants well past their best as a result of advanced age, physical damage, soil compaction, pests and disease, or because of cramped or unsuitable growing conditions, or simply because there are better, more vigorous, floriferous, disease-resistant varieties that have superseded them? Or plants that have self-seeded or suckered themselves into inconvenient or unsuitable places? Or others that just don’t earn their keep because they have too short a season of interest, are too demanding, too greedy for light, nutrients, water, or just too vulnerable to the increased weather extremes of recent years? Or – a pet hate of mine – is your garden home to trees or shrubs that long ago gave up the ghost but whose woody skeletons remain intact, a gloom-inducing sight if ever there was one.
Speaking of which, bear in mind that older gardens are more likely to harbour certain common plant diseases, such as honey fungus (a fungal disease that attacks the root systems of many kinds of woody and herbaceous plants) and phytophthora (another very destructive, fungus-like plant disease) which will have unavoidable consequences in terms of the species that will flourish and those that will struggle.
Microclimates
Consider, too, the fact that as a garden matures, the particular growing conditions and various microclimates it once offered also change. So where once there was bright sunlight, space and a fertile, moisture-retentive soil, there might be shade and fierce competition for nutrients and water, with the result that plants that once flourished are now struggling. Perhaps the way your garden is being used has also changed? For example, maybe that large area of lawn once reserved for playing football and for the kids’ trampoline is no longer required. Or the kitchen garden that you’re struggling to manage might be much more accessible and easily maintained by creating raised beds and pebble paths.
Planting aside, consider the hard landscaping elements. Is your garden home to broken paving? Uneven steps? Storm-damaged fencing? Sagging trelliswork? Leaking ponds or broken water features? Rickety gazebos, pergolas, arbours or rotting decking? We’ve all been there. But before you rush to repair them, consider whether it might be better to consider a more long-lasting and/or more contemporary or nature-friendly alternative. Perhaps that dated concrete paving could be concealed beneath a layer of ornamental pebble. Maybe that leaning gazebo has had its day and its removal would open up new planting opportunities and free up both space and light, while the sagging fencing could be replaced with a wildlife-friendly hedge.
My last words of advice? Whatever decisions you come to, consider them carefully. Because if there’s one thing all mature gardens teach us, it’s that time is of the essence.
