Jan Leitch is an artist, and it shows in her garden. In the applied principles of scale responsible for the perfect balance of open space and structural mass, in the lines supplied with paths and suggested with gates and arbors and benches, in the shapes of the multiple trees that provide permanent structure, the textures that offer constant interest, and in the repetition of features to ensure rhythm, the ingredient necessary for consistency and comfort. These elements are accentuated with strokes of color from leaves and from flowers, all the more appreciated in their subtlety.
Jan’s garden is one of natural “rooms”. Upon entrance, a split rail fence visually divides the driveway from the yard, lush rhododendrons on the descent, a sparkle of deutzia clustered at the end in the shade of a ‘Kousa’ dogwood, its ivory bracts in full bloom in June. On the opposite side, a shore of juniper sculpts the driveway, anchored by a “star” magnolia which provides bright white blossoms in early spring.
South of the house, tomatoes grow in raised beds, fenced and fortified with wooden stakes, the area decorated with a unique collection of watering cans. On the other three sides of the house, the flowering year unfolds. Wooden gates lead to the garden, the perfume of a mock orange beckoning. The house itself is nestled within various evergreens, hollies and azaleas, skirted with an assortment of hostas and underscored with a brick path leading to the front door and to an iron bench. A rest here provides the visitor with a view of a pool of pale and deep purple iris in the front lawn, bearded and Siberian, frequented by hummingbirds. Birds are everywhere. A cardinal perches in a white paper birch while several varieties stream through the air. The garden is generously supplied with birdfeeders and bird baths and bird houses and the plants which attract them. A handmade feeder designed and made by Jan’s husband Bob, which holds a special recipe and is equipped with built-in perches, has successfully attracted orioles this year. The benches, the paths, real and perceived, and the birds suggest an unhurried pace, an invitation to the visitor to rest a spell. Along with places for people to sit and for birds to perch, there are hanging baskets and urns overflowing with flowers, lending charm and color, and pollen.
Another bench sits beneath a crab apple, pink buds opened to pure white earlier this spring, as well as a rare, yellow magnolia. In a far corner, a textured garden of finely needled and silvery prostrate evergreens, blades of ornamental grasses, and leathery hostas, with spurts of color from irises, hosts a bench which swings in the shade garden, offering the ultimate in relaxation and a view of their home and gardens. An iron bench tucked a little further back into a sea of glossy pachysandra is sheltered from the road with a row of sweeping pines, another restful spot.
A grotto, of sorts, is carved into another corner, a miniature replica of an island. A lighthouse serves as its centerpiece, and Bob built a small shed, where a sea gull perches, and a building for whale oil which would have been its original purpose. With a scale of one inch equaling one foot, stonewalls and walled terraces are constructed with miniature rocks, and wooden stairs descend to a “dock” and to the ocean of grass. The island is planted with a variety of mosses, thymes, sedums, and creeping veronica; among these ground covers, a small American flag waves. The garden at large, and this grotto in particular, and Shelby, the beautiful Corgi who escorts us through the tour, makes visitors feel as though they’ve stepped into the pages of a Tasha Tudor storybook.
A picket fence, striped with mauve tradescantia, separates the front from the back yard. Passage through an arbor brings visitors to a circular garden where an urn in the center, brimming with colorful annuals, is surrounded by perennials – the deep blues of centaurea, Siberian iris and baptisia and the pale blues of amsonia and Jacob’s ladder, golden coreopsis and sparkling white daisies, Asiatic lilies spurting their sunrise hues now, the trumpets of summer lilies later, one of the most impressive collections of lupine I’ve ever seen with mauve, primrose, pure white and raspberry blossoms, and luscious peonies all flourishing under the arch of a flowering plum. The house, which also serves as a wall for ornamentation, marks the southern border of the garden and hosts a bench and a fountain. The northern border is delineated with a shed, an ornament in itself. A painting of the shed in the midst of these flowers recently won a prize in a competition. The garden has served as an inspiration for several works of art.
A path beneath crab apples wanders toward a water garden. Lined with astilbes, lily-of-the-valley, hosta, trillium, and Jack-in-the-pulpit, it eventually leads to a large arbor covered with the ivory lace of a hydrangea vine and the vibrant spurs of honey suckle, providing another cool spot to rest. The path from the arbor spills into a circular lawn, demarcated with a row of forsythia, a bright golden wall in spring, and bird houses, and beyond, an impressive assortment of pines, the remains of a Christmas tree farm, enormous now, through which a tunnel appears. The trees are too dense to permit entry, though it’s an enchanting visual suggestion.
A deck extends across the back of the house, multiple tiers hosting multiple tables and chairs. Each level is lined with wands of Solomon’s seal and the splayed leaves of hostas, the whole shaded densely with a maple and with pines. Calla lilies filling urns lend a relaxed, tropical air, while a water fountain produces a relaxed, soothing sound. Tucked into the sheltering plants, it’s one of the many places here offering an oasis for visitors, and for the birds who frequent the Leitch’s garden.
Dayna McDermott