Progress on my house and backyard is stalled right now. The backyard is still partly torn up from trenching for my new underground electric service because we're waiting for the City to re-connect my raw water line (Cody has two distinct sets of water delivery pipes, treated for in the house and raw or untreated for irrigation water).
(Backyard destruction: The photo at the top of the post is my contractor, Jeff Durham, smiling from the trench he just dug, and his son, Allen, on the left holding the sawzall for cutting tree roots. In the background are Sam and Dustin, hooking up the new electric service and meter box to my house.)
In the house, we're waiting for my plumber to rough in the fixtures for my en-suite bathroom.
While I'm practicing patience--never my best talent--I'm getting started on the front yard, which is basically on the lawn-and-shade-tree landscaping plan.
There's one skinny flower border along the fence by the garage, and an oblong bed in the middle of the other side of the lawn with a teenage spruce tree beginning to shade it. Both are over-run by lawn grasses, with numerous volunteer Russian-olive sprouts plus a few Canada thistle sprouts too, just to liven things up.
Lots o' lawn--boring! But what are those green lines? Read on...
As you can imagine, I'm planning a complete yard makeover. I envision colorful landscaping that uses less water, provides more habitat for pollinators and songbirds, and is less welcoming to ambling deer and munching cottontail rabbits. No easy task, but I'm beginning to see a plan.
Inspired by two small, triangular, rock-edged beds (also over-run by lawn) on either side of the drive where it meets the front sidewalk, I decided to plant a rock garden along the front edge of the yard between one of the new access paths (outlined in green above) and the sidewalk along the street.
My neighbor Jane Dominick donated two wheelbarrow loads of local rock from her yard, and my friend Connie Holsinger, visionary co-founder of the Habitat Hero project, gave me a generous gift certificate to High Country Gardens.
I ordered more than two dozen native plants plus a few non-native lavender (which will serve as deer and rabbit-deterrent), piled the rock near the rock-garden-to-be, and thought for a couple of weeks.
Yesterday afternoon, I got started laying out plants, and cutting through dead turf to plant them. I worked for a couple of hours, and then, before I had entirely worn myself out, I cleaned and stowed my tools, and went for my regular Sunday run.
The bricks mark the edge of a new path; the rock garden extends from the path to the sidewalk, to the existing triangular bed--also newly planted, and to the driveway.
After work this evening, I took some time to admire what I had done, and to start placing rocks. I'm going to need a lot more of them, and more plants, but with plants and gardening, I can be patient.
Renovating this yard is a long project, but oh, how rewarding it will be!
The future rock garden viewed from the other direction. The new plants are in dark circles of removed turf.
In the meantime, I am inspired by the sagebrush desert just outside town where I run. This year's spring green-up is the best in decades, colored by the prairie junegrass (Koeleria macrantha) and dotted by an ever-changing show of wildflowers.
The Shoshone River and its canyon from my running route.
I am taking notes and photos, and planning to collect seed for my rock garden. Who could resist attempting to grow these charming and beautiful native mat-plants? Not I!
Hooker's sandwort (Areneria hookeri) with its starry flowers, all of two or three inches tall
Stemless four-nerve daisy (Tetraneuris acaulis), a minature blast of spring sunshine
Waxleaf penstemon (Penstemon nitidus), not a mat-plant, but oh, that blue!, growing in front of Wyoming big sagebrush (Artemisia tridentata ssp. Wyomingensis).