There is beauty to be found in our sprawling suburbs, not so much in the houses, which are predictable, as in the gardens which are not. Some gardens are original works of art created by homeowners cultivating their own small corner paradise. Many fine trees have survived, despite the depredations of the chainsaw brigade, there are decorative fences, green lawns, flowers and flowering shrubs (where the deer have left any) and, in the older suburbs, narrow winding streets that give a distinct impression of being in the countryside.
The winding streets, while picturesque, do create a hazard for drivers. Around any blind corner, you are likely to find the road blocked by a landscaping truck with a trailer and a team of energetic young men rushing around with big mowers, trimmers, sprayers, leaf blowers, and a small backhoe. The noise is enormous, and we can almost always hear the roar and screech of a landscaping operation somewhere close by.
Obviously, we can’t leave nature to Mother Nature, whoever she might be. The natural landscape of Long Island and Connecticut in the 1600s, when the first European settlers arrived and started carving out subdivisions, was mostly forest. You can’t build suburban houses in a forest, and people like to have a little space around their homes for privacy, for fun and games, and perhaps a swimming pool. So nature was carved into half-acre and quarter-acre parcels, each one of which provides a canvas on which the homeowner can exercise his or her imagination, while disciplining the anarchic habits of nature and making a garden.
I use the word “garden” rather than “yard,” although they are both derived from an ancient agricultural word for a piece of land fenced in. But there’s a difference. A yard is just an empty space; a garden is a work of art, all yours to design as you like.
The landscapers’ role in all this, in spite of the size of their trucks and the loudness of their machinery, is relatively minor. They are really outdoor housekeepers. They keep things trim for those who don’t have the time, leaving the creativity to us. The results are impressive. It is clear that many people put an enormous amount of time and thought into their gardens. It’s a pity, really, that the houses get in the way, or it would be one enormous, colorful, surrealistic canvas.
The word “landscaper,” in the past, referred to someone who was, in fact, a creator of vast landscapes. Some are still famous, like André le Nôtre, who created the gardens of Versailles in the 17th century, the genius Capability Brown, who created Chatsworth and many other glorious landscapes in England in the 18th century, and Frederick Law Olmsted, who designed the green oasis of Central Park in the 19th century. They needed a bit of space to work in. Their idea of a landscape was several thousand acres of lawns, lakes, bridges, woods and decorative flowerbeds, a single glorious panorama that could be taken in as a whole, or piece by exquisite piece. This is a bit of a challenge for those of us with only a quarter acre to work in.
Every dedicated suburban gardener would like to make that kind of visual impact, but there are many challenges – lack of space, unpredictable weather, ravenous insects, hungry animals – there’s always something not quite right. Historians have speculated that the original purpose of the garden was to recreate the first garden, the perfect garden, the Garden of Eden, designed by the first landscaper. This sets a high standard. The local garden center will help, and the men with the backhoes will help. But don’t expect any miracles.
