Consider the use and evolution of the outdoor space over time. How homeowners utilise their gardens changes dramatically over the years. Although this is a seemingly obvious observation, it’s important for us, as an industry, to remember this, so we can better understand and respond to the dynamics of our customers’ changing requirements.
As I write I’m looking out over a vista of back to back rear gardens in my own housing estate. Newsflash: this is where most people in Ireland actually live.
Only built a few short years ago, there are already plenty of tall trees, and most gardens seem to include sheds and/or ‘garden rooms’. Some gardens appear beautifully landscaped, while others are entirely untouched since the day people moved in. My neighbours include retirees, divorcees and singletons, but there is a preponderance of families with everything from new babies to new L plates.
When we sobered up, many discovered they could dodge the commute and work from home. Yippee. But where?
I would argue that most of these gardens evolve by necessity rather than by design. Government planning density guidelines and developers have conspired to make newer gardens much smaller, which in turn makes the challenge of optimising their utility larger. Mistakes get made. Householders do their best with the resources they have.
Chatting in a front garden down a cul-de-sac the other day, the landscaper pointed across the road and asked, “What do you think of that?” Not one but two massive conifers towered over the entrance of the 3b-semi-d opposite.
“They must like living in a cave,” I answered. There was zero chance of any sunlight entering the house, not to mention their immediate neighbours’. It probably seemed like a good idea at the time of planting (I’m guessing early ’80s). Maybe they can’t afford a tree surgeon, or is it possible they haven’t really noticed?
Our builder friends are more than happy to heavily compact the subsoil during construction then sprinkle topsoil and some grass seed just before handing over the keys. If they do plonk down a patio, it’s right outside the back door, regardless of aspect. The location of the oil/gas tank or air-to-heat unit can be random and non-negotiable.
When a couple moves in together, what’s the very first thing to be added to their blank canvas, to block up the side passage if they are lucky enough to have such a thing? Yes, you guessed it, the ubiquitous selection of wheelie-bins (colours may vary). Someone really ought to invent a way of camouflaging the bloody things.
Next, given that clotheslines, firewood/turf/coal bunkers are going out of fashion, along comes the patio furniture and some kind of BBQ. (Hope springs eternal.) Then a shed to store the new lawnmower, half empty paint tins and an impressive array of sinfully under-used fitness equipment. Maybe an adorable little puppy appears. It inevitably grows, poos and makes muck.
All is rosy for a time as the dual earners commute to build careers and pay down the couch/white-goods/marble countertop upgrade option/wedding loans.
Often, although statistically less often than heretofore, domestic bliss is augmented by the pitter-patter of tiny feet. (Typically three feet, that’s 1.5 kids according to the latest CSO figures.) Then in rough chronological order along comes the outdoor play pen, paddling pool, tricycle, mini slide, Wendy house, sand pit, an impressive array of balls, goal posts (that’s a lot of plastic so far), a swing, a large timber playset and, of course, the dreaded trampoline.
I cursed the day it arrived to dominate our own garden, assembled as it was, whilst not necessarily sober, one Christmas Eve. In the dark. (Does it matter if there’s a few screws left over?) Equally I rejoiced the day we decided it was redundant, pawning it off on unsuspecting relations.
Later come bigger bikes, big plastic storage boxes, the treehouse or tent, upgraded patio furniture, removal of the rotten decking, a selection of pots… the list goes on. Little wonder the hardscaping and planting suffers.
IT DOESN’T END THERE
When the kids are grown up, along comes the golf net, a jacuzzi, sauna unit and ice plunge pool. Maybe an outdoor kitchen and gazebo structure for alfresco dining. Surely a pizza oven at least. Plus tasteful lighting for evening entertainment.
“Jaysus, the place is in some state.” I’ve come across ‘New Irish’ who are flabbergasted with the ongoing growth in their gardens in this country. “But I cut it already this year.” Please note – lawns are not an actual legal requirement here. The vast majority of people I meet are, to say the least, ‘not proud’ of their gardens, despite the large sums of money invested in garden accoutrements over the years.
As the kids mature and the mortgage starts, at last, to shrink, the next big project comes along. Due to the constrained housing supply and once the attic has been converted, the lovely 40m2 extension comes up for discussion. A new kitchen, bigger open plan living area and lots more light. Happy days.
Except the garden space is now even smaller. What’s left has been ripped asunder by the dastardly builder and, by definition, what remains is subjected to more traffic per square foot than ever before. Fido drags in muck over the lovely white tiles. Worse again the fabulous bifold doors/ massive windows now nicely frame . . . what? A bomb site.
Then, just as you think it’s safe to venture outside again, along comes a global pandemic and the garden gets looked upon anew. Unexpected free time, accidentally accumulated savings and eco guilt lead to a boom in grow-your-own vegetable planter beds and home bars. Not necessarily in that order.
When we sobered up, many discovered they could dodge the commute and work from home. Yippee. But where? Clear out and dump the wobbly Barna shed and get on the waiting list for that log cabin/office pod/converted container/teen den/man cave/home gym/bespoke garden room. Good luck to any garden designer who can cater for those last few paragraphs. Yet try we must.
Am I the only one who frequently shouts at the TV makeover programmes? Sharp corners and small children don’t mix. Same goes for gravel, many water features and steps. Is there enough space for a bouncy castle one day and a graduation/21st party marquee the next?
HOW DO WE FUTURE PROOF GARDENS?
How do we plant for privacy without risking becoming overrun? Expensive pleached espaliers are flying off the shelves these days. It’s worth it though. I have an elderly aunt who likes to sunbathe in the nude.
What type of pots (and contents) are football proof? Is there a plan B to reincorporate the dog run or mulched area under the trampoline? Or if it’s a sunken version, does this become the pond?
Can Granny and Grandad disappear to the Algarve for months on end and not face a jungle on their return? If we can ever succeed in persuading our beloved progeny to fly the coop – and start the whole cycle anew – what best suits our golden years?
Raised beds, as kneeling down and getting back up again becomes a real challenge. Beware undulations, new hips are expensive. There’ll be more time but possibly less energy to actually garden. I’ve seen too many get out of control. Remember, Mammy will statistically outlive Daddy, and it’s a lot harder to find a half decent handyman these days. Now the kids are obliged to periodically return to mow the grass or reprogramme the robot. I think it’s a real shame that many are forced to downsize due to an unmanageable garden.
It behoves us as professionals to acknowledge the practicalities, anticipate the dynamics at play and act on the opportunities these ongoing changes present. There’s no one size fits all solution and therein lies the challenge. ✽
MARK O’LOUGHLIN is a 54-year-old mostly office-bound landscaper with grey hair who loves transforming spaces using artificial grass. He is the owner and director of Sanctuary Synthetics. Winner of five Bloom medals, Mark previously risked ridicule with his HidBin invention on Dragon’s Den. He is the author of The Big Hairy Green Book: All About Artificial Grass (available on Amazon).
