In her contribution to our series, “Coming to Hampton”, Beth Regan wrote “as much as it may have felt like I was choosing this place to make my home, I truly believe that it has chosen me.” A direct descendant, Beth felt an ancestral link with this “Land of Uncas”, and in the end, the “old real estate adage…location, location, location” prevailed. Geri White agrees. Bordered to the north, east and west by the Edward’s Preserve, and to the south by Goodwin Forest, it was the setting that sold the place to the two of them.
When Beth and Geri purchased their house in 1988, it was “a cottage in the forest”, surrounded by woods which now demark the property’s borders, marching right to the door. The property was a Christmas Tree Farm, and for a few years, Beth and Geri sold and hand-baled them, a nice experience, Geri says, a product people are cheerful purchasing. The remnants of the trees remain here and there, and new pines have taken their place in this splendid garden cultivated by the current owners.
The stone wall separating the street from the yard was initially smothered with grape vines and poison ivy. “We couldn’t even tell it was there,” Geri explains. Now the garden is hemmed in with this charming New England stone wall, solid and rambling, enhanced with trees and shrubs which contrast perfectly with the horizontal layers of rocks –a cerise flowering dogwood, a “Kousa” anchoring the east end, smothered in early summer with ivory bracts, purple azaleas and rhododendrons, some as large as trees – a sparkling white, pale to deepest pink, a rare lilac, magenta, and the prized, deep red ‘Prince Henry’, the flowers softening the masonry. In late winter, the bright blue blossoms of squill are scattered in front, and the west end of the wall is punctuated with a burst of golden forsythia. Inside the garden wall we discover daffodils, their trumpets announcing spring with varying hues, the unique checkered lilies, and creeping phlox frosting the earth with pink and lavender petals. Coral colored tulips circle the mailbox to greet visitors. A basket of pansies hangs from a “Welcome” sign over a garden of sweetly scented hyacinths. Along the entrance to the house – a stunning collection of parrot tulips in shades of scarlet, orange and gold are interspersed with complementary narcissus.
Structural elements are everywhere — a cherry tree graces the front lawn, and needled and broadleaf evergreens display their value throughout the year, most spectacularly, a Colorado Blue Spruce, a magnificent specimen which some have suggested should grace Rockefeller Center, though the owners would never sacrifice this glorious tree for even the most famous of reasons. The variety of conifers strategically placed throughout the lawn draws the eye and expands the property, the gentle sweep of their branches contributing to the peaceful aura found here. A hedge of arborvitae serves as an attractive and definitive border between this and an adjoining property to the west, with woodlands to the north, east and south, thus the assorted music of birds serenade me on the visit.
A charming covered well house is a focal point in the front lawn, and there are ample opportunities to sit and contemplate nature on chairs and benches. Wind chimes sway and sing with the breeze, and a bird feeder constructed of pipes serves as a focal point in back, the invention of Beth’s brother-in-law who built this masterpiece for a collection of feeders to attract different birds. He died shortly after making it, and so it remains, a loving, lasting memory of a loved one with a strong connection to nature. In the few moments I spent there, woodpeckers, goldfinches, and an oriole were among the many birds I witnessed enjoying their meals.
There are several sculptures – a stone basket brimming with petunias and complimentary annuals. A stone bunny, acknowledgement of the wildlife apparently reigning supreme, though if Geri hadn’t informed me of the rabbit’s undeterred destruction of perennials, I wouldn’t have noticed. Voles and Asian jumping worms also have something to do with the difficulties in gardening here – the proximity to the woods makes this parcel particularly vulnerable to critters and insects which have their own designs. Many of the trees were decimated by gypsy moths. A sculpture of two women greet visitors at the entrance to the house in a pose Geri describes as expressing “joy”, and serves as a symbol of the effects on the homeowners of spending time outside immersed in nature. These joyful sculptures are just one expression of this; there are plenty of invitations – on the porch, the deck, at picnic tables, in the gazebo, screened in and lit with white lights for summer evenings — evidence everywhere that the yard is used and enjoyed.
At the rear of the property, a sacred structure — protected by pine trees and a wild shadblow weaving its spring snowflakes, summer fruits, fall foliage — is surrounded by boulders unearthed from an excavation project and rescued for this purpose. From the four directions, the site is entered through four cedar doors, a carving of an eagle on each, leading to a center fire pit circled with sections of small stones in red, white, black and yellow, the tribal colors of the Mohegan tribe. Even from a distance this site evokes a natural reverence, within, a certain peace, a sense of the “beautiful forests, streams, and trails” which Beth wrote “spiritually connected to the land of my ancestors”.
In late summer, annuals are in their full glory, at every entrance, surrounding the deck, circling the gazebo – marigolds, lantanas and coleus in fiery hues, dahlias the color of tropical fruit , flames of celosia , multi-colored impatiens, sunshine rays of gerbera daisies. Taking center stage throughout the year is the front porch where wind chimes beckon visitors and white lights lead the way, where baskets of red geraniums hang from the ceiling and potted petunias in all colors, from lemony yellow to deep purple, mingle with delicate nemesias and silver leaves to form a pyramid with an assortment of urns and containers on pedestals, tables, and chairs. “I love color,” Geri explains, and despite this drought, color is everywhere.
Perennials flourish as well in summer. First the red and ivory peonies, then deep purple irises – the bearded and Siberian varieties. The deck and the stone wall are lined with lilies in vibrant hues of rust, brick red, marmalade, lemon, cantaloupe, peach, pumpkin. At the fence around the entrance to the vegetable garden, a Rose of Sharon spreads its violet saucers, towering over a clump of white yarrow, stalks of scarlet bee balm, sprays of black eyed Susans and an indigenous cone flower with branches of yellow daisies. Along the inner wall, flamingoes walk among phloxes of the same tones of pinks. Autumn brings hydrangeas, a row of lace-caps cushions the house, and at the entrance, blue blooms of mop-heads on one side and late-season creamy panicles on the other. In fall the garden will also fill with sedums and chrysanthemums, the evergreens showcased through winter.
Beth wrote that “as time went on, the town of Hampton and its residents also drew me in,” naming acts of kindness from neighbors who “wanted nothing. It was simply the Hampton way.” A few years ago when our property was one of those vandalized because of a political sign, our basket of fuchsias, which happily resided at the entrance to our property for 30 years, destroyed, Geri surprised us with a new basket of flowers, a gesture of neighborly goodwill, reminding us, during an uncharacteristic time, of “the Hampton Way”.
Dayna McDermott