Period Living
Garden designer Alasdair Cameron’s Devon farmhouse sits comfortably within its landscape of rolling hills and pasture. Accessed down a tiny hedge-lined lane overhung with ancient oak trees, the Georgian property has an uninterrupted view of fields and woodland. Formerly a working dairy, Silver Street Farm now enjoys a quieter and more picturesque life as a family home.
Alasdair moved to the farm in 2011 with his wife,Tor, and their three children. ‘The outside area was quite run-down, with a concrete yard and virtually no garden, save for the front of the house, which was mainly planted with spring bulbs,’ says Tor.
It is a talented garden designer that can make a garden look as though it has always been there, and Alasdair has transformed the three-acre plot from agricultural to horticultural. The family’s small flock of sheep graze contentedly behind metal estate fencing that borders the locally quarried gravel driveway. A pleached hornbeam hedge screens the parking area so as not to detract from the façade, and a palette of textured plants erupt and tumble through the rusty railings that separate the house and driveway. ‘We’ve tried to coax the plants forward onto the drive a little further, hoping they will self-seed. I like that the house is “wrapped and hugged” by foliage,’ says Alasdair. In winter, fragile frosted seed heads soar above feathery fronds of grasses and in the soft, pre-dawn glow, the entire front aspect looks as though you are viewing it through rose-tinted spectacles.
A reclaimed Victorian iron gate to the left of the house leads you through to the rear garden, where Alasdair’s planting tenderly embraces the surrounding fields. Clipped domes and cushions of beech lie scattered across the frost-tinged lawn, echoed by further clipped hornbeam and yew domes within the borders. The adjacent river provided inspiration for the positioning of the topiary. ‘I’ve used the topiary like boulders, with the “river” of plants flowing around them. In addition, the contours of the clipped shapes echo those of the countryside.’ The border flows around the garden, curving past a wave-cut hedge towards the ancient higgledy-piggledy collection of wooden barns and outbuildings.
A high hornbeam hedge forms the backdrop of the main border, which is so deep that Alasdair and Tor’s children used to ride their bicycles and ponies along the winding grassy paths that are tucked within the planting. In winter, nothing is cutdown, allowing the seed heads to remain as food for the birds. Tinged with a dusting of frost, the billowing plumes of grasses and fennel fronds are punctuated with the blackened twisted shapes of verbascum seed heads and torch-like cardoons.There are no hard lines here, only sinuous curves and blurred edges. Tall grasses, such as Moliniacaerulea subsp. arundinacea ‘Karl Foerster’, Sesleria autumnalis and Deschampsia cespitosaare favourites. ‘These grasses stay buoyantly upright despite everything the winter weather throws at them,’ muses Alasdair.
Certain perennials are favoured, particularly due to their resilience to the ‘damp, insidious sort of wet’ that pervades this part of England in the winter. Caucasian germander is a semi-evergreen perennial that in summer, sports spikes of purple flowers but in winter, the dark stems form sculptural daubs of chocolate brown against the soft, caramel tones of the grasses. Phlomis isanother stalwart of the winter garden, the summer-yellow flower bobbles now silhouettes.Other perennials that hold up well to the damp, colder months include herb fennel, Eupatoriumpurpureum and lysimachia.
But winter is a time for re-thinking the garden, and with the bones laid bare, Alasdair can strim, divide and mulch in preparation for spring. ‘Winter jobs are always ongoing as some of these plants will take over if they’re not divided, and winter is a great time to do this,’ he advises. A self-confessed ‘plantaholic’, Alasdair will think nothing of completely changing a border or planting scheme
if he feels it isn’t working. ‘Last winter, the plan was to divide the whole border, but just being in it for half a day, the plan had already been re-worked.The colder months are a great time to see the structure more cleanly and decide what can be moved. I also take the opportunity to run my hand up the stem of plants that have gone to seed, such as foxgloves, and then scatter the seed in pockets around the garden,’ he explains.
Attracting bees to the garden is of huge importance. ‘We have introduced gooseberry bushes to the garden not only for the fruit in the summer, but also for the bees, since goose berries are one of the first things they feed on once spring starts to arrive.’ Until then, the sleeping garden prepares itself for the coming season. ‘Buds and shoots begin to appear even by the end of January, and the scent of Daphne odora ‘Aureomarginata’ and Lonicera fragrantissima, or winter honeysuckle, are intoxicating,’ Alasdair enthuses.
Despite being busy with garden design for clients during the week, Alasdair relishes time in his own garden, which is constantly evolving. ‘I am always looking and thinking about what needs to be moved, what’s working or can be added,’ he says. Great gardens never stagnate, they just get better.