The Meadow

Four years ago, my husband found his happy place here in the Blue Ridge Mountains, just outside of Asheville, NC, when we were wrapping up our twelve-week cross-country van trip. I enjoyed our visit, but thought we had agreed we were done building, buying, or renovating houses. He was not done. He is a commercial real estate redeveloper by profession, and my background in design and architecture has served to make us a good team in the built world. But after thirteen moves, I thought it was enough. Done. Instead, like much our life together, we negotiated and compromised. I think we could call it that.

We bought a newly constructed house, along with additional land, in a golf course community just outside Asheville, adjacent to the Pisgah Forest. We agreed to keep our home in Siesta Key, Florida, which is my happy place (along with my camper). After thirty-six years together, twenty of which we have had our respective offices home-based, we thought we would appreciate time apart. In fact, that part is true. I, however, really wanted a smaller life and we had already downsized in our Florida property when we went through our last relocation. At that time, we also sold our beach house, and some of our commercial real estate.

I was sold on the land part. Our heavily wooded rear yard is a dream of mine. I grew up thirty minutes outside of Philadelphia, PA, near Valley Forge, when it was still considered rural. My neighbor had chickens; another had horses. Our dogs ran unleashed in our unfenced yard. My time in the country, where almost everyone knew each other, felt so safe, yet free. Nature was my playground. My forever happy place was filled with fields, streams, babbling brooks, ponds, woods, rocky little crags to climb, dirt roads, horse trails, farms, orchards, and lots of flowers.

The stream near my childhood home was a place of curiosity. There I discovered frogs, fish, beautiful rocks, moss, wildflowers along the creek bed, snakes, and all kinds of bugs. Exploring was a favorite pastime, and I used my sketchbook and watercolors to create art there. I’d bring books, snacks, and a blanket and would often take a nap in a grassy knoll, lulled to sleep by the sound of the water bouncing over the rocks.

As a teen, I rode horses through the fields and woods with friends, pausing to give our horses a rest and a chance to drink from the stream. We would splash water on our faces and, depending on who we were with or how deep the water was, we would refresh ourselves in the stream, too. It was dreamy.  

So, when my husband found his happy place here in the Pisgah Forest, I too, found a place that harkened back to some of my favorite childhood memories. But it needed work. Like most gated communities, some of what I found was too manicured. I wanted an authentic mountain experience. Gated communities have rules, and this one is no different. I was not happy about that because I am an improvisational gardener, and as such, like to design as I go along and that was not to be, I learned to follow the rules and became very creative about how I planned each part of the new property.

There was an untouched area on my land—about 1/3 of an acre—that had been graded with topsoil and left unplanted. I learned that a septic field lies below. No trees could be planted here, as deep roots could damage the septic field. It looked naked and called for something. We had already lost three big trees because of construction, so my house was starting to look too suburban instead of my fantasy house nestled in the woods.

Synchronicity is something I am always on the lookout for. As fate would have it there was an article in the Sunday New York Times during my dreaming/planning garden stages for this property that discussed the benefits of meadows. I learned that meadows offer as much positive environmental impact as an equivalent space planted with trees. Additionally, meadows mature faster, offering their benefit to the environment sooner than forested land. Meadows are far less costly to plant and maintain, too.  “Hmmm,” I thought. “This could be a possible solution to the imposed limitations of my planned community.”

The article piqued my interest enough that I started researching other sources about attributes of meadows and their positive contributions to the environment. Here is what I gleaned from my research:

            1: Meadows support biodiversity by creating habitats for a wide variety of animals, such as birds, frogs, snakes, deer, and here in the land next to the Pisgah Forest, even bears. Insects are abundant inhabitants, too. Everything from moths, butterflies, dragonflies, ants, and a wide a variety of bees.

            2: The abundance of flowers in a meadow attracts pollinators, which are essential to our food systems. Additionally, flowers offer food and shelter for bees and butterflies.

            3: The plants and bushes in meadows help with soil retention and water absorption, creating organic material for the nurturance of surrounding plants.  

            4: Meadows are natural air purifiers which produce oxygen and help with carbon sequestration.

            5: Meadows promote water management, assisting the water filtering through the ground which in turn improves the overall health of the soil. The meadow plants also aid in preventing runoff and in-turn, flooding.  

I was sold on the concept of having a meadow on my property. I did many sketches and plans, visited garden centers, the arboretum, and wildlife areas in and around Asheville to learn about indigenous plants. But bringing this part of my home to life required a lot of help. I hired a team that was as excited about supporting biodiversity and using indigenous plants as I was. Together we created a thing of natural beauty that also supports our local community’s environment.

Our team planted hundreds of plants the first season. With help, I brought in larger plants like hydrangea, ninebark,  nandina, and butterfly bushes. We added a variety of grasses—low, tall, and medium. Green, yellow, and red. Then we layered with lots of flowering plants like echinacea, nepeta, coreopsis, yarrow, horsemint, black-eyed susans, goldenrod, whorled milkweed, salvia, prairie verbena, gaillardia, white Gaura, Virginia mountain mint, beautyberry, daisy, iris, baptisia, and chamomile—to name several. We add to it each year.

When the actual planting began everything looked miniature. The meadow is situated downhill from the house. We live halfway between the top and the bottom of a mountain, so when we looked down on our meadow, we thought it would take years for it to mature. What I did not understand is how fast things grow here. This area is in an eco-system called a temperate rainforest. We are in a mid-latitude, cool to mild climate. We have high precipitation levels because of the combination of the moisture brought in with the fog each morning, coupled with rain. The clouds that bring in morning moisture, hover until mid-morning. Then the clouds move aside for the sun’s nutrition, and by early evening the sun has moved to the other side of my property, giving my meadow a chance to rest.

The meadow is a place of solitude, peace, oneness with nature. Yet it bustles with activity. When in Asheville sharing this property with my partner-in-the-possible, I try to walk the property each morning with my cup of coffee. The walk is a form of mindfulness and meditation. There are boulders in the meadow that I rest on because it is usually the place I wind up last. Sometimes I sit on a rock and meditate. I start my breathing and hear birds. Sometimes a dragonfly or bee will be so close to my ear I can hear its buzz. But soon I am lost in my meditation and the next thing I know it is time to begin my day. Rabbits hop through, mice scamper, snakes hide, birds flutter, or like the hummingbird, hover. Insects fly from plant to plant and bees—all different kinds—visit many plants, as well. I am thinking of looking for a beekeeper for next season. My meadow has brought a whole new world of discovery for me, my neighbors, and friends and family that gather here.

I hope that you will consider the benefits of unmowed lawns, overgrown gardens, and areas of your communities that can benefit from these meadow-like areas, no matter how small. Every little piece helps. When my children were in elementary school, they attended classes in an ex-urban area in Bethesda, MD. The school was built around a large courtyard that the students, parents, and teachers transformed into a series of gardens to serve as a learning tool. There, thirty years ago I was learning about the environmental benefits of letting areas become naturalized and biodiverse. The learning has never ended on this topic.  In each of the many houses where I have lived, I have had an area that I have let “do its thing”. In a very close-in suburb to Philadelphia, we had a runoff area that became a raingarden. It attracted all kinds of animal life, including a wild turkey! Our Labrador retrievers went crazy one morning, and there was good reason. The wild turkey was perched in a tree right outside our living room window above the rain garden.

One of the great benefits of gardening and being in nature is that it requires a different kind of mindfulness from traditional meditation. And it creates a oneness with the earth. I use all my senses, especially in areas where I do not want to be startled or surprise wildlife. I hope you are inspired by my blog and will consider how you can participate in meadowing. Maybe you can take a stroll in nature to feel more deeply connected to the idea. Inhale deeply and let it out slowly.  

I give gratitude every time I am fortunate enough to experience the natural world, like today, as I reminisce.

I have attached photos from my meadow for your enjoyment. Send me questions, thoughts, ideas, or feelings. And thank you so much for taking the time to read this, and to check in. If you have thoughts about collaborating, reach out. I am eager to create a community of like-minded sojourners.

With gratitude.