Bella Madrona: A Bit of Sunshine

And now for something completely different. I was cleaning out my rather large photo library the other day when I noticed a folder that had been quite ignored until now. In July of 2014, I was lucky enough to attend the annual Garden Blogger's Fling. I was also lucky it was in my home town of Portland. I wrote blog posts about every garden visited (well, not my own of course, as it too was one of the stops on the three-day tour) except this one. Bella Madrona.

This was the very last garden visited on the event and not only was I pooped, my camera was as well. It died on me halfway through this incredible garden outside of Portland in nearby Sherwood, Oregon. I realized there are a few decent photos so I say "What the heck?" and I am posting them here. Not all are incredibly clear but I think the spirit of the place is what's important. It might be nice summertime reading since this weekend we are supposed to be hit hard with a series of fall storms.

I invite you to sit back and take in the sights of this notorious, fabulous, intriguing art-filled garden. At least take in the few photos that survived.

This 5-acre garden, created 35 years ago (but really began as a farmstead in 1892) by James Sampson (1950 - 2015) and Geof Beasley. Does that sound familiar? Portland's famed Pink Martini, fans and friends to the garden, wrote a song about it (The Gardens of Sampson and Beasley), you can hear it here.

From the Garden Blogger's Fling brochure: Bella Madrona began forming in 1980, at an 1892 farmstead. It was named for the madrones growing naturally here, in gravelly soil formed by the ice age floods. Over the years, garden rooms were added, surrounded by hedges. We began having large parties and benefits, which required that crowds could move easily from room to room, and that large open spaces be included.

As a result it has taken on a personality and possesses a sense of place that is to many visitors alluring, eccentric and magical. The lower area, essentially a bog, with its metasequoia grove and large bald cypresses, is a world apart, belying its proximity to the urban growth boundary. It is, along with the garden as a whole, home to a great variety of wildlife, and, indeed, the place is as much for them as it is for the humans who live here and who visit.

This garden has a reputation, an incredible reputation. It was a bit of a mystery to me, having never visited until the Fling. My impressions are that it was overwhelming but warm, full of a definite identity and the collaborative end result of many creative people. There is a lot of art in this garden and I rarely use the word whimsical as it's terribly overused in the world of fine art, but this is about as an appropriate use of the word as any. The garden is whimsical--in the best way possible.

After two years, the images are still very strong in my memory as it has left subconscious residue that I think has somehow informed my new garden. I suppose it's serendipitous that I came across these photos once again.

OK, less talk, more photos. The acreage is almost all garden. There is an area of wetlands on the edge of the property (I believe it was the edge, I can't really recall ever seeing a map). There is sun, shade, groves of trees and fancy succulents. Art, benches, places to see a view and places to be enclosed. There are mysterious hints of another dimension around every bend. It's a special place, so please enjoy as we roll along with limited input by me.

I think I need some Italian cypresses now.

These guys greeted me at the gate.

A rather incredible Itea ilicifolia. I am so glad I have one of these beauties planted in the garden. Granted it will probably take 15 years to look like this.

These upside-down bottles used as a path were, if memory serves me, in a few places. A clever and colorful use for these glass bottles.

These golden and silver shrubs really hit a nerve with me. I so adore how they interplay with one another...the textures especially.

These gates, of which there is a whole series, are quite remarkable.

Amazing boulders.

Water-feature, anyone?

The marshes at the edge of the property.

More bottle paths.

As I mentioned, this place is full of art. I, however, did not manage to photograph much, if any of it, as my camera died. If you would like to see more of this incredible place, many of my blogging friends have written posts about it. You can see one from Pam Penick of Digging here, one from Loree of Danger Garden here, one by Alan of It's Not Work, It's Gardening here, one from Lisa of Descubriendo hojas here, and an especially touching one by Anna of Flutter and Hum here. 

I agree with Anna's observation that it felt like intruding on a very sacred, private land. It was a privilege to step inside this wonderland and for Geof and Jim to welcome us and also let us have our final gathering and party here. We said a lot of goodbyes here after meeting some amazing people from around the globe. How very appropriate.

Thank you.

That's it for this week at Chickadee Gardens. For those of you on the West Coast, brace yourselves for some serious weather. Thank you for reading and until next week, happy gardening!