where everyday natives and choice ornamentals find common ground
Design credits:
home of Jim and Deborah Heg
designed by Deborah Heg
Spiky, variegated agaves juxtaposed with soft blue layers of ground-hugging conifers; a topiary octopus, crafted from cotoneaster, waving its red-berried arms; the shaggy bark of silver broom (Adenocarpus decorticans) emerging from a dark, neatly sheared hedge of California wax myrtle (Morella californica)—these are just a few of the unexpected vignettes one encounters on Jim and Deborah Heg’s Whidbey Island property. And a bonus: these combinations are not only artistic, they are drought- and deer-resistant. It has taken twenty-four years to get to this point, but Deborah can finally look at her garden and feel satisfied. “This is me,” she says with a smile.
Even as a child Deborah knew that one day she would leave Los Angeles for somewhere “moister and greener,” inspired in part by memories of family sailing trips to Whidbey Island, a popular vacation destination noted for its sandy beaches and mild maritime climate. When she and Jim married in 1991, they began their search for “some land and a semi-rural life.” They considered many places but kept returning to Whidbey, and eventually found a large parcel of land in Greenbank, a small community of approximately 250 residents in the center of the island. Jim, who grew up in a tiny farm town in Ohio, asked, “Do you have any idea how much twenty-one acres is?” Yet he was the one who declared they’d found the spot.
They were drawn to the southwest-facing views over Puget Sound, looking toward Marrowstone Island and the Olympic Mountains, in addition to the quiet, park-like forest setting. The property had been logged in the 1920s, so sufficient time had passed for stands of native Douglas fir (Pseudotsuga menziesii), western red cedar (Thuja plicata), and bigleaf maple (Acer macrophyllum) to regenerate. The discovery of three old-growth trees dating back some 350 years was an exciting bonus. A driveway, installed in the 1940s, led through the property from the main road down to the beach, and vestiges of the old logging road promised to make access for construction vehicles easier.
That was the good news. Unfortunately, the only buildings that existed were a small summer cabin (where the totem pole now presides) and an equally tiny guest house, neither of which epitomized the home this couple envisioned.
Jim and Deborah worked with general contractor Bob Arndt to design a Craftsman-style house sensitive to its surroundings. The resulting home appears to nestle into the land with its long, low horizontal lines and deep eaves. The Hegs selected a stain for the cedar siding to mimic the color of the surrounding tree trunks, and the dark green roof blends with the forest canopy.
Such construction does not happen overnight, however, so after some initial clearing of the building site, Deborah began researching how best to minimize trauma to those trees selected to remain, knowing that compaction by materials and vehicles would pose a significant threat to their long-term survival. Their solution was to leave buffer trees in place, specimens that were slated for eventual removal but could remain until construction was complete, creating a physical barrier between the vehicles and the trees they wished to protect.
Today a new, fern-lined drive sweeps past majestic conifers, mature bigleaf maples, and ancient stumps, connecting a large three-car garage adapted as Jim’s office and man cave, continuing past a guest house and an art studio, before reaching the main house.
Creating a landscape plan for such a large property can be intimidating, but Deborah possessed a clear vision right from the beginning. She had been inspired by the park-like settings of Bloedel Reserve (Bainbridge Island, WA) and Stanley Park (Vancouver, BC) in addition to the work of Capability Brown. The dual sense of openness and enclosure, created by the juxtaposition of rolling lawns and forested areas, was something she knew she wanted to emulate. Placement of the main lawn was dictated by necessity: a septic drainfield together with a reserve area was needed adjacent to the main house and studio. With that in place, Deborah turned her attention to the forest. She noted that several trees grew in discrete groups or islands; once defined by clearing out the underbrush, these became distinctive spaces separated by areas of open grass, such that one moved comfortably through a series of experiences, from the wilder, outer reaches of the forest through dappled glens toward the main house.
A 22-foot-wide reflecting pool, installed even before the house was complete, is the focal point of the largest clearing. The inspiration for it came from a photograph in The Farmhouse by Chippy Irvine (Bantam, 1987), which depicted a low-profile reflecting pool set in a forest clearing; a second book, The Bloedel Reserve by Lawrence Kreisman (Bloedel Reserve, 1988), introduced the notion of surrounding a pool with a sheared hedge, to combat the feeling of its “leaking space.” Deborah was struck by that concept and decided to imitate it in her own garden, using a low stone wall as the pool’s boundary line rather than a hedge.
Behind the home, generously proportioned granite terraces take advantage of the water view; creeping thyme (Thymus serpyllum ‘Elfin’) softens the flagstone pavers underfoot. Low stone walls define the space here, too, and provide a spot to display several bronze sculptures by local artist Georgia Gerber.
Deborah and Jim were excited to see deer on the property and never considered installing a fence to exclude them. “I wanted to be all hippy-dippy about it,” she laughs. “You know, one with the flora and the fauna—we would all live together, and the deer would like me!” She also naively assumed that if she selected native plants for her landscape, the deer would leave them alone, before realizing that many of those plants were both attracting and sustaining the deer.
Observation was key in those early days. Deborah noted the deer’s preferred path through the property and that everything they tried to grow in that area would get eaten, while the same plants a few yards away remained untouched. In fact, the resident herd were especially fickle in their tastes, feasting on native flowering currant (Ribes sanguineum), salal (Gaultheria shallon), and wintergreen (G. procumbens) in some areas but not others, decimating serviceberry (Amelanchier) and mock orange (Philadelphus), and even eating the foliage of madrones (Arbutus menziesii) in hard winters.
Damage caused by the deer was twofold; taste-testing in spring and summer, and abrasion during the fall rutting season. To address the former, Deborah sprays Bobbex on the plants closest to the house; she hopes to teach the deer, when they are young, that something doesn’t taste good, so they won’t try it again. Alas, Bobbex “stinks to high heaven,” so she adds a few drops of rosemary and camphor essential oils to the mix; both are known to have deer repellent properties and are marginally helpful in disguising the commercial spray’s sulfurous smell.
Farther away from the house, Deborah did not feel the time, energy, or cost involved in spraying was justified and preferred to grow only reliably deer-resistant trees and shrubs in those areas, ignoring any minor damage. Jim, however, thought otherwise. He loves snowball viburnums (Viburnum opulus) and wanted some by his office. The deer were delighted at this tasty addition to their diet, and so began a battle of the wills that endured for several years as Jim tried to ward them off with repellent sprays. Eventually, he admitted defeat and removed the remaining, severely disfigured shrubs.
To protect against antler damage, Deborah places wire frames around low-growing junipers and other vulnerable plants. The metal cages are easy to erect and remarkably discreet, visually disappearing at a distance. In spring they can be removed and stored, although she presses a few into service to protect emerging hostas. “I was told the deer don’t eat the tougher, larger-leaved hostas,” she says. “That’s nonsense!” Without protection the juicy new shoots are just too tempting for the herd.
In order to grow fruit, vegetables, and cutting flowers (including dahlias, a personal favorite of Deborah’s), the Hegs incorporated a large (90 feet by 120 feet) vegetable garden into the master plan. This veritable fortress has sturdy cedar gates worthy of a castle, while the 8- to 9-foot-tall hedge of Portuguese laurel (Prunus lusitanica) not only excludes the deer but make a strong design statement, its calming, horizontal line a counterpoint to the vertical tree trunks of the surrounding forest. Within this enclave Deborah can grow a wide selection of produce and armfuls of blooms for the home, safe from the inquisitive deer.
The Hegs have relaxed into their complementary roles maintaining the garden: Deborah is the primary designer and gardener, Jim the big-picture landscape manager, overseeing the lawns and taking pride in keeping the drives clear of debris. With the benefit of time and experience, their plant knowledge has increased, enhanced by friendships with Holly Turner, co-creator of Froggwell Gardens on Whidbey Island, and other gardening luminaries. Proximity to Heronswood (Kingston, WA), a botanical garden and nursery curated by plantsman Dan Hinkley, also fueled Deborah’s passion for the rare and unusual. She loves nothing more than coming home with a box full of treasures and wandering around the garden trying to decide where best to place them. However, she admits that were she to start over, the plant selection would be much simpler, her self-confessed plant lust having added to the already somewhat high-maintenance design. “In this climate, the exuberance of growth is constant,” she acknowledges. Weeding is less of a problem since little bare earth is exposed, but the shaping and trimming of trees and shrubs is very time consuming. Yet it is Deborah’s artistic pruning and limbing up of select specimens that has created intriguing portals, exposed interesting bark, or revealed unusual forms. A retired interior designer, she has translated her love of color and textured fabrics into an intricately woven tapestry of plants, each one thoughtfully placed to ensure a pleasing result.
The gardens are designed primarily for spring and fall interest, with summer and winter being quieter. Deborah loves every shade of green, especially in spring, appreciating it as a foil for the flowers of her favorite hellebores (Helleborus), barrenworts (Epimedium), crocus, hardy cyclamen, and other ephemerals. In fall the evolution through a kaleidoscope of fiery colors is always breathtaking. A vine maple (Acer circinatum) in the front garden blazes when backlit by the autumnal sunshine, bathing the home’s interior in a warm glow. Another favorite is a scarlet oak (Quercus coccinea), whose foliage turns bright red. Notably absent from her combinations are white flowers, although she made an exception for a large stand of matilija poppies (Romneya coulteri), which remind her of her California childhood, and black mondo grass (Ophiopogon planiscapus ‘Nigrescens’), a very popular evergreen presence in Pacific Northwest gardens. Deborah explains her edict against black mondo: “It’s just too dark. Here the light is very harsh, almost glaring. With such high contrast, dark colors are lost in the shadows.”
Naturalistic and predominantly native plantings at the outer reaches of the property transition gradually into more contemporary mixed borders adjacent to the house, where architectural agaves thrive in the heat and well-drained soil that has been amended with pumice, protected from heavy winter rains by the extended eaves. Deborah’s quest for unusual specimens has resulted in striking vignettes that are an especial source of inspiration and encouragement to other deer-challenged homeowners. Far from giving up on her garden dreams, Deborah seems instead to have had her creativity fueled by her cloven-hooved challengers.
Together Jim and Deborah have created a garden, not for entertaining large groups, but for personal sanctuary. It isn’t a place cloaked in silence, however. Eagles cry out as they soar overhead, black-capped chickadees splash noisily in basalt birdbaths, and far below gentle waves glissando across the beach. Certainly, in hindsight, there are things the Hegs would have done differently, from planting shade trees adjacent to the patio, to siting the vegetable garden much closer to the house. But overall, after more than two decades of planning, planting, nurturing, and editing, Deborah is satisfied with the way most of her plant combinations have matured and coalesced. The garden now provides the serenity she sought, and she relishes the days when she can be completely immersed in it.
Initially, Deborah enlisted the help of a professional to design the beds closest to the home, requesting a focus on native plants; as a recent California transplant, she was unfamiliar with the local plant palette and felt that natives would be well adapted to the maritime climate and sandy soil of Whidbey Island. But while the designer’s inclusion of vine maples and scarlet oak resonated with the Hegs, the underplanting of rhododendrons and a groundcover of kinnikinnick (Arctostaphylos uva-ursi) did not; rather than blending into the surroundings, the somewhat stark design appeared incongruous with the larger, more naturalistic landscape. Additionally, the stone walls were initially kept free of any encumbering foliage, whereas Deborah felt they needed to be softened.
Deborah began devouring gardening books, and as her knowledge of plants and understanding of garden design grew, she was able to modify the original plan. Specifically, she began to research broadleaf evergreens that might do well in the front beds. Seeking plants for winter interest and fragrance, Deborah incorporated Oregon grape (Mahonia), sweetbox (Sarcococca), and drooping fetterbush (Leucothoe fontanesiana), all of which are generally deer-resistant and thrive in partial shade. She also discovered the world of conifers, adding Siberian cypress (Microbiota decussata) and other unusual specimens, often mail-ordered from specialist nurseries, as well as a few, more pedestrian conifers: she has no snobbery when it comes to junipers!
When a home has such strong horizontal lines, choosing the scale of adjacent plantings can be tricky. Deborah needed larger, bold foliage, such as comfrey (Symphytum), mayapple (Podophyllum), and even grapevines (Vitis), to stand out against the distinctive architecture, realizing that “just jamming things in” can impair the visual balance.
For years Deborah tried to grow pigsqueak (Bergenia cordifolia ‘Tubby Andrews’) in the front garden, the bold yellow and green variegated foliage an eye-catching counterpoint to the dark siding of the home. The resident deer, however, saw this as an invitation to their personal snack bar. Eventually, Deborah gave up the fight and dug them out. In their place, she has added wall germander (Teucrium chamaedrys) as an interrupted, low-growing hedge, whose ease of shearing and reliable deer resistance make it a much lower-maintenance option.
Deborah discovered that a calm palette and repetition of color and shape helped to unify the complex mosaic of plants in the front garden. There are no jarring high-contrast color combinations, even in fall. Rather, the design is held together by subtle shades of green and blue, interspersed with burgundy or copper accents. Likewise, rather than confusing the eye, the many varieties of finely textured grasses and grass-like foliage in this relatively small space read as a deliberate repetition of a soft, mounding form.
To the right of the front door, a border extends to wrap around the western end of the house. Here Deborah indulges her love of ferns, which thrive in the dappled shade cast by the mature maples and scarlet oak, combining them with hostas, Japanese shrub mint (Leucosceptrum japonicum ‘Golden Angel’), and other perennials. Standing guard over the scene is a whimsical green cat made by Deborah. “Only a mother could love it,” she laughs, hence its relegation to the shadows.
New Zealand holly (Olearia macrodonta). A holly-like broadleaf evergreen with gray-green foliage and clusters of fragrant, white daisy-like flowers in summer. Tolerates hard pruning but can be allowed to grow as a small tree, 6–10 feet tall, 5–6 feet wide, exposing the peeling bark. A robust shrub for coastal locations and deer-prone gardens. Full sun, zones 8–11. Deer resistance: A.
Mountain holly (Olearia ilicifolia). Not as tolerant of heavy soils as others in the genus but still an evergreen shrub worthy of garden space. It differs from other species by having highly serrated gray-green leaves and distinctive black stems but shares the profusion of white daisy-type flowers in late spring. Grows 4–6 feet tall, 6 feet wide. Full sun, zones 8–10. Deer resistance: A.
Shrubby hare’s-ear (Bupleurum fruticosum). A tough evergreen shrub, 4 feet tall and wide, that tolerates salt spray and is adaptable to most soil types and conditions (except boggy) and either drought or irrigation. The dill-like flowers and subsequent coppery seed heads are popular with flower arrangers, while the prominently veined, glossy green leaves are a pleasing foil for more colorful companions in the landscape. Full sun, zones 6–10. Deer resistance: A.
Daub’s Frosted juniper (Juniperus ×pfitzeriana ‘Daub’s Frosted’). A spreading, low-growing conifer, 1–2 feet tall and 3–6 feet wide, noted for the sunny yellow tips on its pendulous blue-green branches, presenting an overall frosted appearance. Drought tolerant once established. Full sun, zones 4–9. Deer resistance: B.
Ace barberry (Berberis wilsoniae ‘Ace’). Steel-blue foliage with dusky plum overtones makes this a colorful shrub for the mixed border. Yellow summer flowers are followed by rosy pink fruit, borne on thorny branches that the deer typically ignore. Drought tolerant once established. Grows 3–5 feet tall, 3–4 feet wide. Full sun–partial shade, zones 5–9. Deer resistance: A.
Silver broom (Adenocarpus decorticans). A profusion of golden yellow blooms adorns the branches of this deciduous shrub in late spring and early summer, almost masking the finely textured green foliage. When limbed up as a small tree, the shaggy, peeling bark is revealed, introducing shades of soft butterscotch and creamy white to the scene. Needs excellent drainage to thrive. Grows 6–9 feet tall and wide. Full sun–partial sun, zones 8–10. Deer resistance: A.
Gilt Edge silverberry (Elaeagnus ×ebbingei ‘Gilt Edge’). A large evergreen shrub, 8–10 feet tall and wide, that catches the eye no matter where it is planted. Striking green and gold variegated leaves, overlaid with silver scales, somewhat mask the tiny white flowers in fall. The flowers may not be memorable, but their fragrance most certainly is. Adaptable to drought and many soil types. Full sun–partial shade, zones 7–9. Deer resistance: A.
Sparkle barberry (Berberis thunbergii ‘Sparkle’). In spring and summer this deciduous shrub forms a deep green mound of thorny foliage, 3–4 feet tall and wide, studded with yellow flowers. It is fall when it truly lives up to its name, the leaves a fiery mix of red, orange, and gold, enhancing the jewel-like red berries. Drought tolerant once established. Full sun–partial sun, zones 4–8. Deer resistance: A.
Jelena witch hazel (Hamamelis ×intermedia ‘Jelena’). This deciduous, vase-shaped shrub, 8–12 feet tall and wide, is a highlight of the fall and winter garden. Fall color runs the gamut from purple to crimson and gold, each leaf showing a slight variation in pattern, while spidery copper-colored winter blooms perfume the air at a time of year when much of the garden is quiet. Full sun–partial shade, zones 5–8. Deer resistance: B.
Evergreen huckleberry (Vaccinium ovatum). A Pacific Northwest native that prefers moisture-retentive soil but adapts to drought once established and tolerates clay soil, providing drainage is adequate. The small edible berries appear in late summer. Grows 6 feet tall and wide. Adapts to full sun or woodland conditions, even tolerating full shade, although it will not flower or fruit as well in that location. Zones 7–9. Deer resistance: A.