A Native Garden in Connecticut 
The garden was made to meet a definite problem. Our house 
is built on land which for nine generations had been laboriously 
cleared, and turned into meadow and field. The top soil is 
rather thin, and rocks are everywhere, just beneath the surface, 
just on the surface, well beneath and well above. The field that 
presented the problem was quite clear of both rocks and trees, 
and was lower than the surrounding land. At one side was a 
spring, which for many years had supplied, by means of a 
windmill, grandfather's house. Now, town water is connected 
with the house, and the spring ran over into the low field, in 
spite of all kinds of blind ditches. Inspiration said, why not 
make the spring feed a brook and a pond, and so, the garden. 
The levels were the first thing considered, and several months 
were occupied in bringing back from ancient walls the magnifi- 
cent rocks that patient grandfathers had removed from those 
very fields. We used the same means, too — horses attached to 
stone boards, drawn over frozen ground. The rocks were care- 
fully chosen and placed for form and suitability in the positions 
they now occupy. They made lovely masses to be planted. 
Great big ones are bridges over the brooks, some are stepping 
stones, some are steps, and some for sheer beauty, with their 
moss and lichens are just to look at. Many tons of soil, from 
woods and fields, hold the rocks in place. The garden is planned 
to walk in and enjoy from several different angles. The main 
back-ground for all the planting is formed by a variety of 
native trees already in the surrounding fields. Locust, Shag- 
bark-Hickory, Red and Sugar Maples, Elms and Black and 
White Ash; and added to these, Pin Oaks, Tulips, Birches, Dog- 
woods, Junipers, Willows and Hemlocks. 
The main path leads across the lawn, down four broad steps 
and beside the brook, but so planted that only at intervals can 
the brook be seen. It follows also at different levels, up steps 
and down steps until it finds a little landing and comes in 
sight and sound of the water fall, a stream that rushes out from 
a mass of rocks, runs beneath a little bridge and falls over into 
a deep dark pool, surrounded with rocks and planted with ferns 
^and vines, — which is the old spring. Many other paths there 
are leading in and out on both sides of the brook and back of 
the pond. One quiet, green, still place, which we call the glade, 
is quite cut off from the rest of the garden. I do not remember 
just what determined that we should put in only what belonged 
to our immediate neighborhood, but I think because we found 
most of our original material in our own woods and fields. 
Perhaps the best way to see the garden will be to start in April. 
The Willows are showing color, and the Spice-bush (Benzoin) 
buds are beginning to swell, also the charming Shad-blow 
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