RAISED BEDS aren't just for vegetables anymore. Think of them as pots in various sizes and shapes, strategically arranged to create patterns in the garden, and you begin to see further possibilities.
Raised beds have a bad rap as messy wooden rectangles, often topped with tattered row covers, sprouting scraggly cabbages. I figured we'd all end up digging in raised beds in our horticultural-therapy classes for the elderly. I wasn't alone in such misconceptions. I found that when I explained about my new garden I was often asked, "Are you putting those raised beds in for when you get old?" Nope, they're for right now, and my middle-aged back, as well as my gardener's eye, are very pleased to have them.
When I started work on my Whidbey garden, it didn't take long to figure out that the soil wasn't draining well and was infested with weeds. Sigh. Not again. I wanted easy maintenance, not a nightmare of soggy soil and horsetails. Inspired by those lovely French potager books, I was so over Northwest naturalism and pining for crisp-edged geometry. I wanted to cultivate plants rather than pull weeds. I loved the idea of built-up beds for instant height and impact, as well as good soil and drainage. I planned to mix edibles with herbaceous plants, and such diverse combinations always look best contained. Raised beds seemed the answer.
The challenge came in the layout and choosing materials.
Designer Richard Hartlage came up with a diagonal grid of raised beds that widened the garden visually and maximized planting space. To soften the linearity, and cut costs, we decided to mix built-in-place beds and round galvanized-metal troughs from the nearby feed store. These come in a variety of sizes, and with enough holes drilled in the bottom make handsome shiny pots that heat soil up quickly in the spring. I loved the round shape, plus the galvanized metal has a utilitarian look that fits the garden's location across from sheep and cow pastures.
Now In Bloom
The low-growing pasque flower ( Pulsatilla vulgaris ) opens its large, cup-shaped purple flowers just in time for the spring equinox. This is one hairy perennial, covered with pale down on its stems, leaves, buds and even on the outsides of each flower. Inside, the blossoms are centered with a fat fluff of yellow stamen. The flowers are followed by downy seed heads topped with twisting, feathery plumes.
ILLUSTRATED BY JULIE NOTARIANNI
To add interest to a flat, featureless space we decided to build the beds in varying heights ranging from a foot to 3 feet high. But out of what? I didn't want the usual treated lumber because it leaches chemicals into the soil, and I hate that waxy, unchanging orange look. We tested the composite and plastic "wood" called Trex because it's colorful and indestructible. But laid on its side and built up, it's too wobbly to contain soil. I checked out interlocking cement blocks used to build walls, but I didn't like the busy cuteness of the patterns they make when locked together. I wanted something clean-looking, solid, heavy, as if it had weathered there in place for years.
Finally we chose split-faced CMU, or concrete masonry units, which are just big bricks of concrete that need to be mortared and capped, which increased labor costs. But they're worth it. They look hunky even though each block is only 4 inches wide, which allowed us to squeeze in 10 raised beds with 3-foot-wide paths sufficient for a wheelbarrow to squeak through. The look is solid and permanent enough to ground the lively mix of plantings. And you can sit comfortably on the sides to socialize, dig, pick a handful of blueberries or sniff a sweet pea.
Now the majority of my garden is graveled paths underlaid with landscape fabric to smother the weeds, with a few small in-ground beds for permanent shrubs and trees. The rest of the planting, growing exuberantly in all the rich, carted-in soil, is raised well above the predation of slugs and snails. The feed troughs are 2 feet in diameter, and the concrete beds are 4-by-8-foot rectangles in varying heights. You can't imagine how many raspberries, pea pods, pansies, lavender and chives you can mix into those beds, all easy to reach, change out and mess around with in every season. I'm glad I didn't wait another 20 years for raised beds.
ValerieEaston is a Seattle freelance writer and contributing editor for Horticulture magazine. Her e-mail address is valeaston@comcast.net. Jacqueline Koch is a Seattle-based photographer.
Copyright © 2006 The Seattle Times Company
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