between people, flora, and fauna
Design credits:
home of Michael and Maryellen McCulloch
designed by Ann Lovejoy, Beth Holland, Laura Crocket, Eamonn Hughes, John Greenlee
In 2003, when Maryellen and her husband Bill set out to find a property near downtown Portland with “a bit more space” for their two young children to grow up in, they had a modest five-acre parcel in mind. Yet when they were shown Westwind Farm, a midcentury modern home designed by Pietro Belluschi, with territorial views across the Tualatin Valley to the Coast Range, the fact that it sat on forty acres of grassland and blackberries didn’t deter them. Within half an hour, Bill, who had been looking for a place that showed a sensitivity to the land, knew they’d found it. The home appeared to blend into the surrounding landscape, settling unobtrusively into the hillside in such a way that it visually disappeared, a hallmark of Belluschi’s designs. Surprisingly, once inside, the light-filled home became a window to the world, the entire south wall offering panoramic views.
The home’s low-profile design and hilltop location afford sweeping views across the valley.
However, the journey from yesterday to the present day has not been painless. Barely a year after moving in, with two children under the age of three, Maryellen received the devastating news that her husband had passed away suddenly of a heart attack while at work. Somehow, she managed to get through the next few years, determined to stay in the home that she and Bill had found. She began to develop a vision for the land, one that was shared by Michael McCulloch, a leading Portland-based architect and friend of the family, who joined her and the children in 2005.
With a renewed sense of purpose, Maryellen and Michael called in their “Dream Team” of Northwest landscape designers: Ann Lovejoy, Beth Holland, and Laura Crockett. Their initial focus was the four sloping acres immediately surrounding the hilltop home, where the McCullochs requested a saltwater pool, several new multi-purpose buildings, and a large patio space. Creating an environment where wildlife could thrive was also important, hence the inclusion of a naturalistic waterfall and pond to support birds, butterflies, and dragonflies, as well as an abundance of perennials to encourage pollinators. Deer and elk were regular visitors, their presence embraced by the homeowners but a reminder to the design team to work with a suite of deer-resistant plants.
Such an extensive project took many permits, big machinery, and over a thousand tons of rock. They finally broke ground in late 2006 and naively invited the Hardy Plant Society for a celebratory opening the following summer. The land was contoured and terraced under the direction of Eamonn Hughes, whose expertise was called upon for the design and installation of the water features. Each basalt boulder, handpicked for its particular color and shape, was painstakingly set to appear as a natural outcropping under Michael’s watchful eye. “When rock is set right, it speaks to you,” says Michael. However, winter rains turned the construction site into a dangerous mix of mud bath and water-filled ditches, and the less-than-grand opening in July 2007 was a big, sloppy mess of exposed rebar and caution tape everywhere. “It was hard for them to envision it,” recalls Maryellen wryly.
All four walls of the yoga pavilion can be slid open, creating an enchanted setting for outdoor concerts. Wide steps around the pool and pavilion can double as event seating, while the careful placement of large boulders suggests pre-existing natural formations.
Between the patio and the yoga pavilion large boulders were set into the existing slope to create a waterfall and pond, while also providing planting pockets for an assortment of deer-resistant shrubs, perennials, grasses, and wildflowers.
A cedar waxwing eyes the juicy fruits of a black chokeberry (Aronia melanocarpa ‘Nero’).
The yoga pavilion was a key focal point of the new landscape, anchoring one corner of the new outdoor living room, and designed by Michael to complement the house. Every component of the timber frame was meticulously crafted over a period of six months before being assembled on site in one day. It is constructed without a single fastener, eschewing modern western practices in favor of traditional Japanese techniques that rely on intricate joinery.
Michael and Maryellen, both strong supporters of the local arts scene in Portland, envisioned using their new outdoor living spaces to host concerts, fundraisers, and other community gatherings. With that in mind, Michael designed a series of shallow steps around the pool to serve as casual amphitheater seating, with a small lawn behind offering additional space to spread out picnic blankets. Coincidentally, the acquisition of a grand piano and subsequent conversion of the basement into a recording studio expanded the role of the home in a similar fashion and marked the evolution of Westwind Farm into Westwind Farm Studio. “Michael is a very sensitive architect. He created everything with people in mind,” says Maryellen. Certainly, the landscape reflects his vision for multiple gathering spaces that can accommodate large groups as well as more intimate spots for quiet reflection.
With the hardscape complete it was time to focus on the plantings. Loose, sinuous beds mimic the contours of the rolling hillside and provide a transition from the strong geometric architecture to the more organic flow of the landscape. Michael specifically requested a restrained plant list, although he isn’t afraid of bold colors, red being his favorite. To that end, the designers included large swaths of yellow-blooming Jerusalem sage (Phlomis russeliana) for structure, silvery lamb’s ears (Stachys byzantina) as a low-growing, edging perennial, and extensive drifts of bold-colored daylilies. To satisfy Michael’s color preference, the fall display includes vines, conifers, and grasses that all turn shades of scarlet, as does the foliage of many of the deciduous trees and shrubs.
It was also important to provide food sources such as berries, seed heads, and nectar for birds, dragonflies, and the many pollinators that call this sanctuary their home. Even the deer and elk are welcome to a portion of the fare, as Maryellen’s “more is more” philosophy encourages growing an abundance of every flower. When Maryellen took ownership of the evolving garden, she added more berry-bearing shrubs to supplement the perennials and fifty thousand spring bulbs (although for the latter to succeed she must do battle with voles and gophers).
Lavender fields were added in 2012, fueled in part by the McCullochs’ love of community; outgoing Maryellen has always enjoyed lavender festivals and wondered how hard it would be to transform a few acres into tidy, mounded rows of fragrant blooms, thereby providing an excuse to host events that would bring the neighborhood together. The latest phase of the design began a year later, when the McCullochs turned to John Greenlee to devise a plan for the remaining acreage, recognizing the need to connect all these elements to the wider landscape. The area below the home was originally 20 feet high in blackberries, a vestige of earlier clearcut logging. Maryellen envisioned a meadow here, an informal blend of grasses and wildflowers that would naturalize over time, although she knew that creating and maintaining a meadow would be neither a quick nor an easy project.
Indeed, the path to gardening success has not been without its bumps. In the meadows, some things were not persistent, while in the perennial borders, more aggressive plants quickly overwhelmed their more delicate companions. Maryellen discovered the hard way that tickseeds (Coreopsis) do not like being covered up with compost (“I killed an entire bed that way”); even some pine trees succumbed to crown root rot after being mulched too deeply. Then there are the plants she should probably never have planted at all, such as bronze fennel (Foeniculum vulgare ‘Purpureum’), which while beautiful to look at, self-seeds with abandon, and the cattails (Typha) she now struggles to eradicate.
Maryellen and Michael see themselves as stewards, not owners of this extraordinary property. They marvel at the intricate web of ecosystems it hosts and are honored to play a small role in its continuation. “We try to understand what the land wants to be,” Maryellen says, adding, “I think that the reason we’re put on this planet is to learn and grow. I hope I always continue to do that.” She takes that learning seriously, noting that observation is key to understanding life cycles. Each week she takes extensive notes of necessary land management, recording bloom times or problems for future reference. For example, they had never had a problem with tansy ragwort (Senecio jacobaea), a common invasive weed of disturbed meadows, until the Oregon Department of Agriculture sprayed the Portland area with a biological pesticide to eradicate gypsy moth caterpillar in 2016. Suddenly the weed became a significant pest. The following year Maryellen noticed dozens of cinnabar moth caterpillars covering the ragwort. Research revealed that this noxious weed is their primary food source and that the caterpillars’ presence indicated a biological control was taking care of the weed, without human intervention.
Caterpillars of the cinnabar moth feast on the flowers of tansy ragwort (Senecio jacobaea), devouring the blooms before this noxious weed can set seed.
“Window to the Gone World” by Lee Kelly invites contemplation and interpretation.
For the next chapter, Maryellen hopes the boundaries between meadow and perennial border are increasingly blurred and the overall aesthetic becomes even more naturalistic. As the sun goes down, the garden takes on a magical quality, the night sky reflected in the mirror-like surface of the pool. The sounds change from birdsong to the quiet hum of evening insects and a few noisy frogs. A sense of peace settles over the land like a sigh. It is a legacy, held in trust by Michael and Maryellen for future generations. It is their gift to each other, to their community, and to nature.
A series of delightfully floriferous perennial borders surrounds the home, patio, pool, and yoga pavilion. Such casual plantings can quickly become a weedy jumble without considerable planning and ongoing editing. To avoid this, Maryellen has planted both oxeye daisies (Leucanthemum vulgare) and larger-bloomed Shasta daisies (L. ×superbum) in all the borders as well as the meadows, lending a sense of unity. These have varying companion plants in the different locations, but the repetition establishes a feeling of order and calm.
Beebalm (Monarda ‘Raspberry Wine’) mingles with native white yarrow (Achillea millefolium).
Nibbled but not devoured, annual nasturtiums (Tropaeolum) bloom so prolifically, the damage is rarely fatal.
Shasta daisies (Leucanthemum ×superbum), seen here as a backdrop to sea holly (Eryngium giganteum ‘Silver Ghost’), are a unifying perennial throughout the garden.
Daylilies are safe from passing deer, who prefer to bypass this narrow, stepped pathway in favor of easier routes.
Observation of the habits of the resident herd of five females and two or three males that roam freely on the land was essential in achieving an acceptable level of deer resistance. Russian sage (Perovskia atriplicifolia) and three varieties of reliably deer-resistant aromatic beebalms were used in the more heavily trafficked parts of the garden, and Maryellen has observed that spiky plants such as yucca and sea holly are rarely bothered, so incorporates those in susceptible areas also.
While daylilies are occasionally severely damaged by browsing deer, they thrive in large swaths here. Maryellen attributes their success to careful placement—primarily flanking a steep flight of stone steps that the deer seem to avoid. Growing more reliably deer-resistant grasses and spiky sea holly at the flight’s landings may also dissuade the deer from exploring it. She has noted, too, that the deer appear to prefer walking on soft earth or grass—not on hard concrete.
Other deer-management strategies include fencing young trees to avoid bark damage and planting most things in vast quantities. “If I plant fifty of something, the deer can have three or four,” Maryellen says. Nasturtiums and other vigorous annuals quickly recover from browsing, and she even manages to grow a few roses by selecting tall varieties and tethering them to fences. Although the lowest blooms are eaten, the bush as a whole survives, and the highest flowers remain unscathed.
Maryellen grew elephant garlic (Allium ampeloprasum) one year and noticed that it was completely ignored by the deer, prompting her to try more plants from the onion family. Now ornamental onions are one of her favorite bulbs in the garden; she enjoys Purple Sensation (A. ‘Purple Sensation’) in several different areas. No repellent sprays are used nor are tall fences erected (with the exception of the vegetable garden). Maryellen isn’t trying to repel or exclude the deer but seeks a balance so they can all co-exist harmoniously. “It is absolutely thrilling to see them so close to us—one of the true gifts and treasures of this place.” If the deer or elk eat some of her plants, she doesn’t get angry but blames herself, for placing something where they could find it!
During the year the perennial borders evolve through several different color schemes. In spring, purple ornamental onions and columbines punctuate a sea of yellow daffodils, while midsummer sees mainly warm shades of gold, red, and purple, before the fiery autumnal display rounds out the gardening calendar. Traditional perennial gardens can appear barren during winter dormancy, so the addition of both evergreen and deciduous trees and shrubs ensures four-season interest. One of her most successful shrubs is Gro-Low fragrant sumac (Rhus aromatica ‘Gro-Low’), a robust groundcover with foliage that is fragrant when crushed and tinged pink in summer before turning vibrant shades of red in fall.
Siberian cypress (Microbiota decussata) is a favorite evergreen conifer, with layered feathery foliage that transitions from bright green in summer to purple-red during fall and winter. Its placement at the base of the towering, vine-covered stone fireplace helps to balance the scale of the masonry, which might otherwise be overpowering. Michael especially loves this vignette in fall when the Virginia creeper (Parthenocissus quinquefolia) turns deep red, echoed by the adjacent flame grass (Miscanthus ‘Purpurascens’).
Grass ecology expert John Greenlee designed the master plan that connected the home, perennial beds, and lavender fields to the larger landscape. A key to this was how one moved through the space, so he began by modifying the driveways and introducing a network of trails through the existing pastures. John used flags to lay out the trails, introducing “sexy curves” to invite visitors into the space. These paths also direct attention to specific vantage points and vistas, carefully orchestrating the sensory experience. The paths were leveled with an excavator to create 6-foot-wide mowing strips, which were then seeded with native fescue. The paths have transformed the way the McCullochs engage with the land, but looking across the fully grown summer meadow it could be challenging to locate them, so a series of slender Italian cypress (Cupressus sempervirens) were planted as markers, adding vertical punctuation points as well as identifying the mown paths. This clever solution almost didn’t endure, however; John once watched as a herd of elk reached over the fences that were theoretically protecting the young evergreens. Thankfully most of the trees survived.
Distant views across a meadow are framed by lichen-encrusted branches. Beyond lies an additional forty acres the McCullochs purchased, now protected as a conservation easement.
Mown paths through the meadows are highlighted by sentry-like Italian cypress (Cupressus sempervirens).
John then set about improving the pastures themselves. “I wanted them to look more purposeful,” he says. “I wasn’t aiming for restoration but rather to accessorize.” He did this by adding select deer-resistant plugs (small plants) and bulbs. He also insisted upon the removal of two enormous Douglas firs (Pseudotsuga menziesii) that were obstructing the million-dollar view; as he pointed out to Michael, they still had an entire forest of Douglas firs: he could spare two. John introduced the new plants in fall, using flags to mark their location. He told the McCullochs that the new plants would need some space in order to compete with existing grasses, and that even drought-tolerant natives would have to be watered during the first summer. It was also important that they learned to coordinate mowing the pasture with the life cycle of the introduced plants, allowing time for them to grow and set seed.
Keeping the meadow in bloom has been a learning process. Maryellen was less concerned about using only natives, recognizing that many were going to be short-lived; even the purple coneflowers (Echinacea purpurea) did not persist beyond a few years. Initially, she sprayed the areas with seed, but the only flowering plants that germinated were red corn poppies (Papaver rhoeas). She then tried introducing plugs along the paths and made a point of watering them more vigilantly, but they didn’t come back. Two native Pacific Northwest lupins, Lupinus polyphyllus and L. latifolius, were sown as seed; but after initially doing well, they too are now beginning to fade rather than naturalize as she had hoped, and less than half the Russell Group lupins (L. ×regalis Russell Group) have returned. Blanketflower (Gaillardia aristata) has been more successful after a slow start, and the native white yarrow (Achillea millefolium) has done well, growing much taller where it gets watered. The native common fleabane (Erigeron philadelphicus) came in on its own, much to Maryellen’s delight, and after planting only a couple of yellow evening primroses (Oenothera fruticosa ‘Fireworks’), she laughs to see that they are now everywhere!
Managing a meadow involves more than planting seed or plugs, however. Many people who have pastures will mow and rake every year, but experience has shown Maryellen that this can kill insect life, as it destroys the habitat before life cycles are complete. She prefers to mow every other year, rotating different sections of meadow, and attributes the noticeable increase in the dragonfly population in part to this strategy. To avoid invasive weeds taking over, she hand-pulls thistles before mowing begins so their seed is not scattered, and also allows the cinnabar moth caterpillars to devour and therefore destroy the ragwort.
John is looking forward to his continuing collaboration with the McCullochs as they endeavor to manage and develop these meadows, and he intends to introduce a lot more bulbs and perennials. “I’m not trying to change the pasture ecology, just adapt it into something more ornamental,” he says.
It has taken several years for the meadows to become established, and it will always be an ongoing project that needs careful management.
Portland’s Mediterranean climate is ideal for growing lavender, but the heavy clay soil is not. Not one to let such a detail dissuade her, Maryellen purchased a thousand cubic yards of a custom soil mix back in 2012 to make her first lavender field of dreams possible, but even that didn’t ensure success. They are still experimenting with the best way to minimize weeds, maximize growth, and keep maintenance to a minimum. Using landscape fabric was a problem aesthetically: the lavender was pretty but the paths of black plastic were not. Now they install the fabric directly under the plants, leaving mown grass paths between the rows, a compromise that is also easier to manage.
The McCullochs enjoy sharing Westwind Farm Studio and using it to connect the community to the land. This has now grown into a family affair, with Maryellen’s daughter baking delicious lavender shortbread and mixing large batches of lavender-infused lemonade, both popular treats at local lavender festivals. Maryellen also harvests lavender oil and distills it to create a wide range of lotions and creams. “It’s a joy to grow,” she says with a smile.
Maryellen grows fifteen different lavender cultivars, including white grosso (Lavandula ×intermedia ‘Alba’).
Jacob Cline beebalm (Monarda ‘Jacob Cline’). A hummingbird magnet, thanks to the prolific whorls of scarlet, tubular flowers. Grows 4 feet tall and half as wide. The aromatic dark green leaves resist mildew and are typically ignored by deer. Adaptable to both wet and dry soils. Full sun–partial sun, zones 4–9. Deer resistance: B.
Oxeye daisy (Leucanthemum vulgare). A drought-tolerant perennial, 3 feet tall, 2 feet wide, whose white daisies make excellent cut flowers. Native to temperate Eurasia, widely naturalized in North America. Full sun, zones 3–8. Deer resistance: C.
Blanketflower (Gaillardia aristata). An excellent native cut flower, the flowers display a varying pattern of red, orange, and yellow concentric discs. This colorful perennial, 2 feet tall and wide, attracts bees, butterflies, and birds and is drought tolerant once established. Full sun, zones 3–8. Deer resistance: C.
Jerusalem sage (Phlomis russeliana). An upright herbaceous perennial, 3 feet tall and 2 feet wide, noted for its bold silver-green leaves and clustered whorls of lemon-yellow flowers. The seed heads attract birds and make a graphic statement in the border, often persisting into winter. Full sun, zones 5–9. Deer resistance: A.
Siberian cypress (Microbiota decussata). A low-growing conifer, 2 feet tall and 8 feet wide, with layered, slightly drooping branches featuring feathery foliage somewhat reminiscent of arborvitae. The bright green summer foliage deepens to purple-red tones in fall and winter. Full sun–partial shade, zones 3–7. Deer resistance: A.
Buena Vista lavender (Lavandula angustifolia ‘Buena Vista’). English lavender is harvested for its oils as well as for culinary purposes. This compact selection, 2 feet tall and wide, has deep blue flowers and gray-green foliage. Full sun, zones 5–8. Deer resistance: A.
Gro-Low fragrant sumac (Rhus aromatica ‘Gro-Low’). A vigorous, low-maintenance shrub to use as a groundcover, 2 feet tall, 6–8 feet wide. Young growth is tinged with pink; fall color is a vibrant crimson. Leaves and twigs are fragrant when crushed. Full sun–partial shade, zones 3–9. Deer resistance: A.
Fireworks evening primrose (Oenothera fruticosa ‘Fireworks’). Red buds open to fragrant, bright yellow blooms, which close at night. Exceptionally drought tolerant and easy to grow; attracts hummingbirds, bees, and butterflies. Grows 2 feet tall and wide. Full sun, zones 4–8. Deer resistance: B.
Karley Rose fountain grass (Pennisetum orientale ‘Karley Rose’). Fat, fountain-like plumes of rose-purple flowers arch over the deep green foliage in late summer, persisting well into fall, when the foliage changes to yellow-tan. Grows 3 feet tall and wide. Full sun, zones 5–8. Deer resistance: A.
Silver Ghost sea holly (Eryngium giganteum ‘Silver Ghost’). Teasel-like steel-blue flowers are surrounded by stiff, ghostly white bracts. A superb architectural selection, 3 feet tall and 1.5 feet wide. Reliably deer-resistant in the McCullochs’ hot, dry border, the Rutgers rating notwithstanding. Full sun, zones 4–7. Deer resistance: D.