Planting the Future: Our New Home Ground

I’m delighted to break something of a silence.

Strange wondrous things have been in the works over the past few month. After much commotion, I’m elated to announce a quantum shift not just in my gardening life – but in my naked earthbound reality.

And it means moving up in the world. Particularly in terms of altitude.

After two years of searching for a place of our own here in Ontario, my partner Troy and I found a spectacular piece of land with an old cabin set high atop a ridge in the rolling glacial wilderness of Mono.

Or should I say, the land found us.

It’s only around 100 km north from Toronto in Dufferin County and yet a world or two away. The last leg of the trip north runs through the rollercoaster landscape of the Hockley Valley. There’s a handpainted road sign right at the top which reads, “Valley of the Holy Mother of God” and it fits.

This was all a long time coming. I knew that I needed a bigger canvas to pursue my fascination for planting design. The key was to find the place while we still possessed the energy to take it on and do the work. (I can thank outlander Brit designer Keith Wiley for that insight.)

For Troy and I, it also seems the perfect way to consecrate ten years of our uncommon law relationship. We sealed the deal in late October and have been running around ever since.

This must be the place

Called ‘Farther Timbers, our cabin is up in the forested highlands and horse country of Mono Township, part of the Niagara escarpment that snakes northwards through the province like a 450-million year old spine. Geologically, it’s the limestone remnants of a massive coral reef from a vast ancient sea.

Mono (pronounced Mow-no) is part of a Unesco World Biosphere Reserve that encompasses the escarpment with no less than four provincial parks within a few minutes drive.

Our home comes with a heritage past. It’s an early pioneer log cabin from the 1830s or thereabouts – moved and reconfigured to its present spot sometime in the 1960s. The previous owners, an elderly genteel couple thought to whitewash the inside making it feel light and open with floor to ceiling windows.

The old timber and beams feel ancient and strong. The roof is in need of fixing.

The cabin itself is well cocooned within 30-acres of land –  surrounded by mixed forest with views of the far ridges beyond. Most of the property is an ecologically-protected forest wetland, part of a vast system of aquifers that feed down to four major rivers in southern Ontario.

Outside of time

There’s a large lawn in front of the cabin, which rolls down in a wave to a one-acre spring-fed pond, encircled on three sides by mature birch, willow, ash, and conifers. It comes complete with a small bunkie parked right on the western edge that seems perfect for guests or a studio.

When deliberating the big decision whether or not to buy, the pond made up our minds.

Interestingly, while the land holds splendid potential, there was no garden to speak of. That suits me just fine – to start from scratch.

Winter is now setting in and there are things to take care of in the house immediately. But you can be sure, I’ll be starting to draw up a master plan and sites to plant in the long, long days and nights of winter.

It will start with delicately editing the existing nature. Working more with a chainsaw than my usual secateurs.

From fishbowl to ocean

I’d grown incredibly attached to my old un-cottage garden in the Kawarthas. For decades now, it’s been the crucible of all my efforts to manifest a truly naturalistic free-flowing garden.

The experience has taught me more than any book. Simply by creating, observing, and editing it over time.

But the truth is I’d run out of space to plant and room to grow. We were surrounded by neighbours on all sides, who were closing in on each side of the hedge.

My family is putting the cottage up for sale this spring. And so, I’ll be bringing many of my most treasured and mature perennials with me, especially of the woodland variety.

Here in Mono, I have a crystalline opportunity to find the garden without and within. A life project, if you will. On a scale of canvas I never dared imagine.

For inspiration, there are long walks along horse trails up into the neighbouring highland forests, with no other signs of habitation except for animal tracks and the odd abandoned set of ruins. I look forward to seeing the forest come to life next spring – to observe and learn about everything that grows here.

My professional garden friend, David Leeman, has already put me in touch with some very serious local gardeners so I think I’m in good company. Although I think I can bring something different to the equation.

There’s a great series of stories in the making. And it should supply plenty of fuel for writing this blog in the seasons to come.

With all this in mind, I humbly welcome you to my new home ground!

Happy holidays to all my fellow gardenistas and subscribers – wherever in the world you may be.