“I’m lucky enough to have inherited several garden gnomes with my new garden… Most of them have accidentally ended up in the trash, but one of them is 4ft high (including his pedestal) and made of solid concrete. He remains in situ until I get somebody to help me get rid of that dreadful thing… There’s also a lion holding a crest by the drive – perhaps suitable for a grander house, but hardly for a rather modest house in the countryside.
I believe you might have given me the inspiration for a new post…”
The above was my comment on a post in Jean’s Garden, and I could have gone on and on – but didn’t want to make a rambling, long comment about my own garden on her blog. Her post was about art objects in the garden, and while I dare say my garden gnomes are hardly art – nor remotely pretty – it made me think about something I’ve long wanted in the old garden, but that would be too costly.
I love stones and rocks… But in the old garden on a fjord meadow they didn’t seem appropriate. I placed some smaller stones around the garden – souvenirs from around the world – but didn’t buy actual large stones in.
The new garden, though, is surrounded by fields, and boulders seem to crop up in them out of nowhere. The recent freeze has pushed several boulders out of the ground, so I need to get in touch with the farmer and ask him if he would mind if I took them (he obviously won’t), or if he would place them by my rear garden gate when he removes them himself, which he will definitely have to do pretty soon before his winter barley gets too high and begins hiding them in spring.
Using local boulders – that sprung from the ground a mere, well, stone’s throw from the garden really appeals to me, because I want the garden to be firmly anchored in it’s surroundings. Most are in sizes I can carry – or at least lift into the wheelbarrow on my own – and some are just large enough that I can’t – but can roll them over the lawn to where I want them. So I could manage on my own – which is important.
They will mainly fit in around the pond when I get that dug out – and as obstructions in the small stream I’m planning. Not large features, but semi-submerged remnants from the landscape around the garden and reminders of how the landscape was formed during the last ice age. And how it apparently still moves and shifts under the surrounding fields!
I think local, natural stones will fit in better in my garden than actual pieces of art. After all, the house is enough of a man-made statement in the garden for me.
I agree with you that local stones always look better. They merge with the surrounding and they always “belong” which is often not the case of stones from some other place that draw attention to themselves. I hope the farmer moves them all by your property.
There are very few large stones in the Danish landscape, apart from the ancient remains of burial mounds. I suspect we might have used up all our larger stones… But small boulders are legio in the most fertile parts of the country, hidden just under the surface – which includes the area where my house is.
The large dolmen work well within the landscape, but my garden just needs something small and subtle…
What a great idea! I find myself living on a giant glacial sand deposit (sand was measured to a depth of 45′ not far from my house); so, unlike most glacial landscapes, there are virtually no rocks in my neighborhood.
They literally appeared in the fields around the house when the frost set in, pushing them out of the ground. The farmer must be more than a little annoyed with them – they will clearly be in the way when it comes to harvest – so I’m guessing he’ll be glad to be rid of them.
And Lolland where my house and garden is, is one of the most fertile parts of Denmark. Deep soil, and then clay and lime beneath it, but with small granite boulders in the soil layer that crop up every year.
Søren, I saw your gnome comment on Jean’s blog about art in the garden and chuckled to myself. With a few spare moments today, I decided to take a look at your blog, and I’ll be reading it regularly from now on. I like the title — I sometimes consider myself a flaneur — and love the spareness of the banner photo. Rocks are a wonderful addition to a garden, when the setting is right and the stones well placed. In Quebec, stones grow in the ground, I think. All over our property we have stone piles, made by the first farmers to clear the land. In the woods I occasionally come across the remnant of an old stone wall.. and writing this has given me an idea for a blog post!
The banner photo was the view from my front room on a winter afternoon… I like how it shows the relative isolation of my holiday home.
And I think many people have a touch of the flâneur in them; I don’t garden to be efficient and create results, but to enjoy the process and the slow pace that is inherent in planting a seed a watch it grow.
As for your latest blog post, my main garden shed is the old laundry house and hen house, telling the story of how the house was originally used, back when my bedroom was the pig sty and the garage was the stable – and upstairs was the hay loft… I like these tales of the past, built into my house and garden, and I’m even secretly tempted to rebuild the old laundry cauldron, as the chimney from it is still standing… (It would be handy for pasteurising large quantities of preserves and juices.)
An interesting past, to be sleeping in a former pig sty. Some would say that’s the state of my bedroom on most days.
I’ve decided to name my bedrooms in the weekend home after their original use… The pig sty, the stables, the hay loft, the attic… (Though the latter has some amazing 1960’s floral wallpaper on the walls and the ceiling, so perhaps it should just be “The Flower Room”?)
je découvre ce blog et vos projets dans ce nouveau jardin et cette charmante maison sont très séduisants ! vous êtes tellement passionné que ce sera un plaisir de vous suivre. bon courage et à bientôt de vous lire.
Bienvenue, Heidi, et merci pour vos compliments! 🙂
J’espère que Vous ne soyez pas déçue.