1830 hay barn is echoed in a cluster of Echinacea ‘Solar Flare’ and a pair of Japanese maples amid the cool greens of ornamental grasses ( Miscanthus sinensis ‘Morning Light’), boxwoods, ferns, and a yew topiary ( Taxus x media ‘Hicksii’).
I remind myself to look back as well as ahead. Details have impact: terra-cotta pots nailed to the shed’s peak are half hidden by the leaves of an espaliered Bartlett pear tree. The butterflies love it.” A rustic clothesline and a weathered woodshed pull us onward. It’s a tangle of native plants-bee balm, rudbeckia, Queen Anne’s lace. We ease in, starting at the “transitional” garden, wedged between the meadow and the more formal hedged gardens. You don’t see the whole garden in one take.” If you’ve got a flat space, like we do here, you can create surprise and interest by making rooms. “We started at the house with a little courtyard garden, then added sequentially. “For me it was like a succession of garden rooms that I built out,” he says. Ī small gate marks a break in a tall hedge of European hornbeam ( Carpinus betulis) beyond it is a statue of Diana, goddess of the hunt, with her dog.
and in Europe for publications throughout the world-all while learning, planting, and creating in his own backyard. For the past 20 years, Joe has honed his artist’s eye, photographing gardens in the U.S. They’ve been expanding since 2000, when Joe and his wife, Paula, made this weekend retreat their full-time home-he, a retired research psychologist about to turn serious photographer she, the executive director of the Mojaloop Foundation, an offshoot of the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation. It’s the gardens I’ve come for, nearly two acres, ringing out from the house like ripples. Photo Credit : Joseph Valentineīut outside is where we’ll be. You could go from the house to the barn to feed the animals in wintertime without ever going outside.” Verdant planters and boxwoods ( Buxus x ‘Green Mountain‘) frame the entrance to the Valentines’ c.
“Typical New England architecture, they kept building on,” he says. 1789 dark-brown half-gambrel hunkers over the land, just as it has since George Washington was president. Fields spread out around us, sheep graze, and a c. His gaze takes in the view of Juniper Hill Farm, once 600 acres, now 30. “This was the old coach road from Greenfield to Francestown,” explains Joseph Valentine, greeting me at the end of the drive.
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