Japanese Garden walls for a permaculture renovation

Imagine a garden that has the harmony the best Japanese gardens create, but all the ornamentals were replaced by equivalent edibles, 'usefuls', or natives. Well, as a big birthday present to myself, I'm finally making one happen in my front garden.

Cecilia Macaulay with a favorite exhibit at the Hibiya Garden show, Tokyo 2008

Here are photos I took at Tokyo's Garden show in November 2008, maybe all the inspiration I need to get the infrastructure planned. You will notice, they are all created from materials the owner could have found a stroll away from his residence. For a garden to feel Natural, that's the only way.

One big question about my tiny garden is, how can I hide the metal-paint-reproduction heritage import fence I have there now?

I love the little twig fence, and how it creates a sense of meandering, somewhere to go, stories of fantasy strolls of small garden visitors. I love the thought that I could make one just like it from the privet that has plonked itself uselessly in my garden all these years. The way the driftwood sits under the fence, the way the path is built up to it suggests a bridge and river. You must look hard to discover there is in fact no water.

This was a prizewinner. It has a strict, imperial purity. I like the way the cobbles peter out as they got up the hill, as vegetation changes with altitude. But its way too sterile for a garden of mine.

Now, this is the most exciting picture for me, as I think I could dress up my fence just like this. This 'shikui' clay render over lath is the same resourceful idea as old Aussie Wattle and Daub, so would suit the 'Useful, resourceful, beautiful' spirit of the garden I want to create. The area where the' underwear' of the wall is exposed is of course the most charming part. This could have mirror behind it, to create a puzzling extra dimension. The shape of it floats, like mist rolling into the hills.

Willow fencing was too dark for my garden, made the wall feel oppressively close. Using bamboo when it is so foreign to me would make me feel silly, like doing a word-for-word translation of poetry. I want the essence of a Japanese garden, translated into Australian, not disconnected bits of its outer form. So no bamboo. (The real reason: bamboo reminds me of Pretzels, with their awful plasticy shininess, and crumbling, tasteless inside. I clearly remember my first disappointing meeting with pretzels when I was 4, so that's it for bamboo, my justification stories, they are just excuses)


If I did create this fence, I would have to find clay soil from somewhere. Maybe need to mix in some manure for stability. I'd love to avoid using concrete if I could, so that the whole lot could be composted when its served its purpose. It would need a little roof to protect it from rain, as they have built here. That would be charming, like a cubbyhouse. Maybe I could make it from wooden shingle, or second-hand tiles. Where would I start looking?



A tiny little wall can tell such a vivid story. When I see this, I feel all the Japanese Autumns past.
The low, luminous light, the horizontal bamboo floating like clouds are layered with meaning.
Seeing this tiny nook, I recall the Japanese Moon Viewing parties I have attended, the ripe harvest moon looming large, with of course the bull rushes of Autumn swaying underneath. The cakes are mochi cakes, which I've partaken in so often, lovely memories piled up. I should explain: while we westerners have some dull man in the moon, the Japanese have rabbits making mochi. Just pounding away at it. So here is a wall that is a poem, to Autumn, the moon, and making mochi.

I'm just starting to realize as I write, how much of life a wall can open up.
Yes, exciting.