Pondering my fences and climbers for privacy
/Privacy at home in the city has been front and centre of my mind since I removed my protective belt of trees. As inappropriate as they were for my plot, they did do one job very well, and that was reducing the amount of accidental eyeballing between us and our poor neighbours.
Over the last few years, aside from my own self-directed privacy destruction, two other neighbours have removed trees on their properties that have opened up unfortunate lines of sight. I’ve come to realise that we are a little worse off with the traditional raised platform of our 1908 villa, peeking over your average 1.8-m fence with ease by just glancing out the window.
Last weekend we decided to attack our towering, inherited hedge of griselinia, which gave an awesome buffer between our home and the rental next door. After an hour of precarious chainsaw action, we stood with hands on hips staring at the half-chewed wall of green. It was painfully obvious that more regular maintenance had been needed, and, as I stuck my head into its midst, I realised we had let it swallow up more than a metre of space.
This beast was now more hindrance than help, and dramatically, the whole thing came down. As both the light and wider streetscape came tumbling in, I reassured myself that this was now a perfect spot for a rose garden, including some of the climbing variety.
Our most successful efforts of privacy creation have all been helped along by the addition of panels of trellis along the top of the fence, a patchy and somewhat pricey option, but it does give a level of instant relief. Combined with climbing foliage, I see this as my optimal solution. Of course, climbing foliage comes with its own challenges, too.
When we purchased our place five years ago, immature swathes of creeping fig (Ficus pumila) were just getting established across our wooden front and side fences. Wooed by the romance of these greening walls, I let it run rife.
I paid heed to warnings of its maturing woody arms with thick leathery leaves that start growing horizontally (as opposed to vertically) by clipping them back a few times a year. On our neighbour’s concern that our shared fence was being damaged, we recently stripped it all back to survey the issue.
In all honesty, the fence beneath was old and the ficus was barely affecting the pales that were jumping off the frame. As a result, it’s my plan to let it regenerate but monitor their side closely for any naughty breakthroughs that might grow woody and destructive.
Above all, it is plant that can grow from a narrow strip of unloved ground, a spot many others wouldn’t handle.
Wanting to avoid further issue, I needed to address the rest of my borders with a little more creative thought. After successfully employing sheets of metal foundation grid to grow sweet peas up, we have tacked additional sections to a problem length of fence to have a go with a white coral pea (Hardenbergia violacea alba), an evergreen climber with beautiful flowers. Double tick in my book!
Like lots of those fleshy, pretty climbers, the risk is it maturing into sparsely leafed foliage at the base and a big ball of chaos at the top of the fence. I’m currently experimenting with pinning some of its tendrils to the ground to encourage multiple new vertical shoots to get better coverage down low.
For our main area of concern, where the trees used to run and block direct view into our living area, I have entered a new realm of my gardening adventure. After harbouring a pretty mean prejudice against camellias, I have softened to appreciate their reliability and advantages.
Previous owners had planted two of the Camellia sasanqua variety and attempted to espalier them behind what would have been petite, new feijoa trees. As the feijoas grew and smothered them, the camellias demonstrated their outrageous hardiness by surviving with no attention for five years. For the first time, I saw their potential as glossy evergreens with winter blooms that could be trained to create a slim and controllable green wall.
A further three sasanqua plants were purchased and lines of evenly spaced wire were strung tightly along the fence to help train their spread. After poring over espalier styles, I have chosen the “abstract” one, in which I train, with limited finesse, any available branch to spread up and wide in whatever haphazard form it results.
Aside from a slightly sickly star jasmine (Trachelospermum jasminoides) that has been doing a good job on a section of fence under duress, I am also considering employing a Lady Banks Rose (Rosa banksia) in another space. It appeals with its evergreen nature, thornless stems and little butter-coloured blooms.
With four bordering neighbours, I want to keep relations happy, so careful consideration will be given to its support to protect the integrity of the fence, likely employing foundation grid again.
This is an expanded version of the article featured in my Stuff ‘Homed’ gardening column for beginners , The Press, Dominion Post and other regional papers on March 24 2022
All words and some images are my own, taken in my home and garden in Christchurch, New Zealand unless otherwise captioned.