Rock Rose garden abloom before the hailstorm
Two weeks ago my friend Jenny Stocker, blogger at Rock Rose and gardener extraordinaire, offered me a division of a water iris for my pond. When I arrived, mid-morning on a sunny, warm day, Jenny gave me a tour and then kindly set me loose to wander around on my own and take photos.
I’ve photographed Jenny’s England-meets-Texas garden on several occasions (links at the end), and I never tire of it. Her talent with design — although she’ll swear that everything just self-seeds, and she’s had little to do with it — means there are focal points and framed views galore, making her garden not only beautiful to explore in person but very photogenic.
When Jenny leads visitors around her garden, she always starts in the front courtyard and works her way around the side of the house, through the rose garden, and into the sunken garden pictured here. Stepping into the riotously blooming garden of native and cottage wildflowers induces oohs and ahhs, especially in springtime.
I’m going to give you the tour in reverse order, partly for a change of pace but also as a tribute. You see, Jenny’s garden was slammed by a hailstorm 5 days after I visited. The hail, which merely pockmarked my agaves in northwest Austin, unleashed its fury on southwest Austin and pounded flat her tender annuals, vegetables, and succulents. It broke glass ornaments and shredded the new, green leaves from the live oaks, strewing them across the ground like confetti. The sunken garden was especially hard hit.
A week later, she’s philosophical about the damage, knowing the shrubs, roses, and trees will rebound quickly, already seeing new growth on perennials, and hopeful that plenty of dormant wildflower seeds remain in the soil to emerge next spring. After all, her plants are Texas tough, and the natives especially are adapted to these destructive weather events.
It was painful to hear of her losses, and I’ve held off on posting these pre-hail pictures, worried they wouldn’t bring her any pleasure. But at a blogger get-together last Saturday, she assured me that she was fine and encouraged me to post. So here they are, with a reminder to enjoy moments of beauty whenever you see them.
The potager, abloom with Verbena bonariensis, poppies, and bluebonnets
The verbena seemed to be poking its flowery head above the wall separating the potager from the sunken garden for a better view.
I love this vignette of agaves clustered in a shallow, square planter atop a sturdy pedestal, with Mexican feathergrass and salvia billowing around.
Along one tan stucco wall, pine cones are strung on a wire for a casual, charming decoration.
Jenny has a flair for potted arrangements. Doesn’t the succulent in the center look like a miniature saguaro?
Austin is famous for its bat colony, and every Austin garden should have a few as well.
The spiniest plants have the most glorious flowers.
The view across the sunken garden. A doorway in a monumental wall frames the view…
…of a rose garden laid out in a circular design.
Round pavers lead around the central, circular bed of roses and bluebonnets.
I spotted an anole hunting amid the foliage, and he boldly posed for a photo.
Moving around the side of the house, you enter a small, walled garden of evergreen shrubs and vines. A pair of green umbrellas provides shade.
A handsome, silver dyckia shines against a backdrop of fig ivy.
Jenny has many unique pieces of garden art, including this circular ceramic hanging on a wooden gate.
On the door into her walled front courtyard, a rat-tail cactus (I think) cascades from a wall planter.
A variegated Agave desmettiana adds a sculptural accent by the door. Jenny moves these beautiful but tender agaves into the garage in winter.
Stepping through the doorway you see a large potted aloe and contemporary wall art.
A substantial arbor shades the garden entrance…
…but the garden itself basks in sunshine. Gravel mulch offers the perfect habitat for a carpet of bluebonnets in springtime.
A Lady Banks rose smothers the wall at left, while on the right, like an island amid a sea of flowers, an umbrella shelters a table for two.
A millstone-style fountain bubbles quietly nearby, offering an invitation to birds and other garden creatures. Lapped by pastel river rock, a lovely ‘Whale’s Tongue’ agave lifts its arms toward the sun.
Welcoming visitors at the front door, a yellow star jasmine (Trachelospermum asiaticum) wafts its sweet fragrance into the house.
I smiled to see this bobble-handed Queen Elizabeth waving benignly in the breeze — a nod to Jenny’s English heritage?
My thanks to Jenny for sharing her garden with me again, and for the water iris, which bloomed for me the very next day. As for the hail, I hope she’s already seeing nature’s quick recovery underway in her garden.
For more posts about Jenny’s garden:
Jenny Stocker’s English Texas gravel garden
Feeding the soul in Jenny’s garden
Jenny’s flower-licious walled garden
Meeting Carol & a tour of Jenny Stocker’s garden
All material © 2006-2015 by Pam Penick for Digging. Unauthorized reproduction prohibited.
I like that the bobble hand is turned to fan herself in the heat.
I’m easily amused!
It rotates along the wrist for a very royal-like wave. I was amused too! —Pam
I have admired Jenny’s gardens for years. Wherever I try out what I’ve come to think of as gardening Jenny-Style (gravel mulch with a cottage style mix of blooming natives), I’ve been ecstatic with the results. I cannot count how many times I’ve pulled The Hub over to look at photos from her posts. I know seeing what she’s accomplished can convince him to get on board with implementing some homage here at our own house when words will not.
And Pam, thank you very much for posting your own photos as salute. The approach of somebody other than the gardener herself often frames more all encompassing views, appreciative of the spaces as taken in by somewhat less familiar eyes. Jenny’s gardens are as exemplary as her can-do attitude. We all can learn so much from both!
Jenny’s garden has inspired me for years, which might surprise people who know both of our gardens, as our styles are very different. But her creation of garden rooms and talent for framing views and using focal points offers design lessons that translate well to many different garden styles. —Pam
Dear Pam, it was so thoughtful of you to hold off posting until I was on the way to recovery. At least I tell myself that but I still sometimes stand outside there just looking and not knowing what to do next. As usual you capture the essence of the garden so well and in difficult mid-day light. I rarely take photos then favoring the early morning or evening when all the sun has left the garden. I just came in from eating another frog. I am getting in great practice for frog leg treats in France this summer.
I hope the frog eating ends soon, Jenny. For those who might be taking literally Jenny’s comment about frogs, check out her recent post. It’s a metaphor for getting a difficult thing over with right away. —Pam
I’m in Allandale. We got about 5 min of pea-sized hail. In general I got off lightly but my beloved A. desmettiana ‘Joe Hoak” looks like the one in Jenny’s photo and my A. mitis is similarly sad. The hail shredded the cannas and the hibiscus but they (especially the cannas) are so vigorous they’ve almost fully extended new leaves in a week.
So I sat and read Lauren Springer’s chapter on hail in The Undaunted Garden and counted my blessings.
I need to read that chapter. I wonder what she has to say. Of course there is hail and there is hail and this was HAIL. So sorry your agaves were damaged. I don’t know about you but I am seeing more damage each day. Jenny
She talks about which plants recover well and which ones don’t and on what timescales. She advocates for dense planting of herbaceous perennials that she finds more robust against hail. Early season hail is one the few times that will cause her to turn to fertilizers to help the green growth to get going again. She has one picture of her garden after a hailstorm that you might find reassuring: a total destruction zone that recovered pretty quickly.
I have about 25 different agave species in the garden. We got something between the light pockmarking Pam saw and the all-out HAIL you got. We saw as much wind damage as hail, with two large oak branches down. Most of the agave just suffered leaf damage that is ugly but not fatal (especially A. obscura, ovatafolia, and ‘Blue Flame’). Some look like nothing happened, especially the thin-leaved ones (but also my A. potatorum which must have been shielded by the Meyer lemon it sits under).
Good luck to you and your garden!
The Undaunted Garden is terrific inspiration (consolation?) following a hailstorm. Thanks for mentioning it, Astra. I’ll have to pick up my copy again for another read. And sorry about your agaves. I have a ‘Joe Hoak’ which looks a little sad post-hail as well. It has such tender leaves. —Pam
Did Jenny just write that she ate another frog? Anyway, thank you for sharing her beautiful garden with us. How tragic that it was flattened by the hail. Gosh, I hate hail storms. They can do a lot of damage in a very short amount of time. Why is it that when Oklahoma and Texas finally get rain, it comes with such fierce weather? I know the scientific reason, but it just seems so wrong. So wrong.~~Dee
It’s all or nothing with our weather in the Southern Plains, isn’t it, Dee? —Pam
Pam, like you, I was lucky to see Jenny’s garden with my garden club the week before the hail storm. It was so beautiful and we could just see the love that her garden was created with. It makes me so sad to think of all that damage but I like her attitude about “eating green frogs”! This too shall pass……
I’m so glad you were able to visit Jenny’s garden, Melody. It’s such a lovely place. —Pam
If visualizing is a way to create the future, Jenny’s garden is well on its way to full glory soon. Her garden is such a feast for the senses, and you captured it. But Jenny, you’re eating the frogs I’m begging you to share so I can hear their songs in my garden again? Nooooooooo …….
Not literal frogs, thank heavens. Did you see her post about eating frogs on her site? That explains all. —Pam
I did, Pam, and am now recovering.
🙂 —Pam
Like Melody, I was so lucky to have seen Jenny’s garden just before the hail storm did so much awful damage. So, so beautiful and full of blooms that day. We just loved it!
Enjoyed seeing all your views and details that I didn’t capture as I was absorbed in the moment and just a bit distracted by being responsible for the group tour.
It’s wonderful that your San Antonio group was able to see Jenny’s garden in full bloom. And yes, when you’re leading a tour there’s no time for photos, as I remember well from hosting the Austin Fling. —Pam
Your post and Shirley’s recent post on Jenny’s garden are like memorials for her 2015 spring garden. Fortunately, it will come back soon, probably better than ever.
Yes, I have no doubt. Plants are resilient. —Pam
I have seen this garden presented many times. I think this time is the most beautiful. Such a treasure.
It is a treasure, and I’m glad you enjoyed the post, Lisa. —Pam
LOVE that metal bat and want one! Jenny has the most interesting and beautiful garden, and I feel lucky to have seen it in person. I would love to see it in fall when it shows its not-as-famous side.
It’s lovely in fall as well. One of my links at the end of the post shows it in fall, I believe. And you know, I’ve seen bats like these from various makers over the years, like Uncommon Objects, Modern Artisans, and Jones & Bones (looks like Jenny’s). Jenny told me hers were a gift from her children. —Pam
This is a wonderful pictorial tribute to Jenny’s garden which I suspect will have us all gasping at its beauty again in no time.
Kris, I agree. Her garden will be back in fine fiddle again soon. —Pam
I know both Jenny and her garden are tough but this post had my heart breaking for her all over again…
I know, mine too, Loree. —Pam
Thanks for these great photos of an incredibly beautiful garden! Like all of us, I was stunned to see the hail damage, but I know her garden will be beautiful again.
I’m glad you enjoyed the pics, Luisa. Yes, her garden will be glorious again. —Pam