On Saturday I joined several garden-blogging friends for the biennial Open Days tour, sponsored by the Garden Conservancy. I consider Open Days to be the best garden tour in Austin. You often see high-design gardens mingled with a gardener’s sensibility and creative, personal touches. This year’s Open Days tour was one of the best I’ve seen thanks to a variety of garden styles, the inclusion of several gardeners’ gardens, with the homeowners on hand to answer questions, and six gardens that were new to the tour (so far as my memory serves). I’d seen two on other tours and one in a private visit. The other three were new to me, including the garden of Jennifer and Fred Myers on West 31st Street in central Austin.

The Myers garden appears on the front cover of a book I’ve long owned, The Welcoming Garden: Designing Your Own Front Garden. From it I know that homeowner and floral designer Jennifer Myers designed this dramatic and eclectic garden herself. She comes from a line of plant people. According to her website, Jennifer’s Gardens, her mother, Alice Staub, was a landscape architect and her father, Jack Staub, was a naturalist. “Working beside her parents,” her About page explains, “she learned and shared in their passions of native plants and the cultivation of roses and collecting rare plants including bromeliads and orchids. Jennifer frequently traveled to Mexico in search of these rare species.”

The Mexican influence is evident in her use of big, bold agaves, yuccas, and palms and exuberant displays of colorful bougainvillea.

Variegated agave—maybe ‘Quadricolor’?

As you approach from the street, you see a casual decomposed-granite path traversing part of the front garden and leading to the main walk to the front door.

The main walk is a straight shot to the front door, and its length is emphasized by an allee of ‘Will Fleming’ yaupon hollies. But Jennifer painted the front door a cheerful cobalt blue to draw the eye to the end…

…and she placed an iron gazebo and potted bougainvillea in a wide point midway down the path to create a pause along the walkway.

The midpoint view

Arriving at the front porch, you see the architectural detail of the 130-year-old stone house. Although the allee adds a formal element, the garden is, by and large, wildly informal and playful, as you can see by the colorful finials, the wire hearts hanging askew on the front door, the dangling string lights along the eave, and the asymmetrical placement of terracotta lanterns. Fossilized ammonites line the stair riser.

Playful color

I love these ovoid terracotta lanterns. It would be incredible to see this garden at night, lit for a party. String lights are everywhere—wrapping the ‘Will Fleming’ yaupon allee, outlining gazebos, dangling across patios, and bundled around architectural relics that dot the garden.

An old wall fountain leans casually against a rock wall. I thought of her as Medusa, but now I see grapes in her hair. Maybe this is Bacchus, not Medusa.

To one side of the house, a drainage swale has been created to let runoff flow through the garden. A path of old brick dips down to a low-water crossing, where water can flow over as needed. Dwarf mondo grass is filling in where water will flow when it rains. Moisture-loving plants fill in the rest of the garden space, shaded by live oaks. You can see a cupola in the background; other architectural remnants are stored there too, waiting to be fitted into the garden.

An enormous iron gazebo creates a dining room in the garden. This too is bedecked with string lights, and star lanterns hang above your head.

Suddenly the side garden drops steeply into a natural ravine, which has been terraced with limestone to create an amphitheater for live music. How cool is that!? And how very Austin.

What a treat it must be to be invited to a performance in this beautiful garden. The amphitheater overlooks Shoal Creek (where all that runoff must go when it rains).

A large carved wooden mirror leans against a stone retaining wall, reflecting the terracing and whimsical string lights shaded by upside-down plastic flowerpots.

A swath of St. Augustine lawn follows the banks of the creek and leads to the rear of the German-style limestone house, which sits atop more terracing and a stair lined with Italian cypress.

Jennifer’s floral decorating talent goes oversized with decorative touches like this twisty piece of wood.

There’s a decadent romanticism to the gardens reminiscent of courtyard gardens in New Orleans.

A sense of history is imparted by architectural relics and aged-stone figures that seem casually placed throughout the garden.

Simple and lovely

The narrow rear terrace is brightened with pots of bougainvillea in various colors.

The Three Graces

Coming around the other side of the house, this contemporary shed with sliding barn doors caught my eye.

As did this little monkey-man figure next to an antler, nested in a tangle of string lights.

Seating and console tables abound in this garden, providing space to linger and enjoy the floral creations of the owner.

An avocado-green table-and-chair set and old iron bedstead are the stars of this garden room, sheltered by a tall, green-painted wall.

Green table with a festive red runner

The outdoor bed is comfortably and colorfully dressed as well. Do people really use outdoor beds in our humid, mosquito-infested climate though? I always wonder.

Another romantic floral display, with artfully dropped petals on the table—a lovely touch.

A closer look

Manning the ticket table was a woman in a brightly patterned yellow dress and broad-brimmed cowboy hat. She wore a button that said “Garden Host,” and I asked if she was the owner, but she said no. Perhaps a friend. I loved her outfit, which perfectly matched the garden’s tropical-meets-Southwest vibe.

And here I am with my garden-blogging peeps, starting a fine day of garden touring together: Jean of Dig, Grow, Compost, Blog, who came all the way from Ruston, Louisiana; Shirley of Rock-Oak-Deer in San Antonio; Diana of Sharing Nature’s Garden; yours truly; and Catherine of The Whimsical Gardener.

Up next: The formal courtyard garden of Yvonne Tocquigny and Tom Fornoff.

All material © 2006-2012 by Pam Penick for Digging. Unauthorized reproduction prohibited.

I don’t remember how I acquired Yard Full of Sun, Scott Calhoun‘s 2005 memoir about making a garden that honors its desert setting. As soon as I read the first pages, his story, told with humor, crisp writing, and enticing photos, hooked me. Since then I’ve read four other books by Scott, reviewing most of them here on my blog, and come to admire not only his writing and photography but his design skills and artistic creativity. Simply put, I’m a fan.

It was partly to meet Scott and hear his scheduled garden talk that I attended the Garden Writers Association symposium in Tucson earlier this month. As I suspected, he turned out to be a great speaker and a really nice guy, generous with his time for this newbie author pumping him for advice on public speaking. I was delighted too to be invited to a gathering at his Zona Gardens design studio one evening.

I rode over there with some friends, and as we pulled up to the in-home studio, I had a half-second regret about not seeing the garden by daylight, and then I saw that the sunset light was beautiful and snapped a few pictures as dusk fell, including the geometric entry garden, softly lit from above and below.

The space is accented by bronze pots of succulents and desert shrubs…

…and orange Adirondack-style chairs that Scott made himself.

Then I went inside, and I met Scott’s wife Deirdre and their other guests, but all I could think was to get into the back courtyard garden, which I could see glowing with candlelight, in order to snap a few more pics before the space filled up. I was literally on the ground at one point, steadying my lens on a chair arm to prevent blurriness in the dim light. Yes, this is apparently the crazed behavior that I am capable of when invited to a civilized party attended by some well-known garden writers, plant experts, and editors and publishers. I’d offer up the vain hope that no one noticed my photography contortions, but at 6 feet tall in heels I’m not exactly a dainty flower. Sigh.

Garden exploration (and accompanying pics) always wins out, however. Before getting a drink and sitting down to talk, I had to admire this wire trellis of hanging egg-shaped pots planted with succulents. A Mexican snapdragon vine winds delicately through the grid.

‘Blonde Ambition’ grama grass sparkled in the soft glow of candlelight.

And a trio of Yucca rostrata creates a shimmering blue-green screen in an orange-painted (or red?) wall planter.

A display of potted succulents on a metal slatted shelf, backed by a steel plaque with letter-shaped cutouts, offers additional space for candles, and perhaps a refreshing drink. Time to go get one! Thanks, Scott and Deirdre, for a wonderful evening in your studio garden.

For a look back at my second post about Tucson Botanical Gardens, click here. Up next: A practical how-to on packing plants in your suitcase to bring home.

All material © 2006-2012 by Pam Penick for Digging. Unauthorized reproduction prohibited.

Tucson Botanical Gardens, which I visited as part of the recent Garden Writers Association symposium, is a surprisingly eclectic place. As I wrote in part 1 of my visit to TBG, the gardens house a wonderful collection of desert plants from all over the world, are home to seemingly hundreds of hummingbirds, look a little like central Texas in the lush, green shade gardens, and basically incandesce when all those cactus spines filter the low light of morning (and probably evening). But there’s more, as I’ll show you in this post.

How about this big, beautiful desert rose (Adenium obesum), an African native that some of you may know as a houseplant.

And look at this melted candle of a plant, totem pole cactus (Pachycereus schottii var. monstrosus). Bizarre, yes? And perfect for a monster garden!

Other oddballs include this baseball plant (Euphorbia obesa)…

…hairy old man cactus (Cephalocereus senilis)…

…and, my personal favorite, Mexican fence post cactus (Pachycereus marginatus).

Stapelia—like green zombie fingers

Squid-like aloes

The gardens are also accented with fun art pieces, like this agave made of perforated metal…

…and a number of colorful, mosaic benches. This one illustrates three types of cactus.

A children’s garden contains a sheltered “stable” with these life-size horses peeking out…

…as well as a big bee made of scrap metal…

…and a friendly scarecrow standing against a colorful, swooping accent wall.

Another tiered fountain is sure to attract birds…

…like this curve-billed thrasher who serenaded us all morning.

A charming planter filled with succulents adorns a low wall.

And this stone-faced lady graces a wall near the entrance to Nuestro Jardin.

Nuestro Jardin (translated as Our Garden) is a small, walled space that represents the modest Mexican-American gardens frequently found in Tucson. We have a lot of these in Austin too. Colorful motel-style chairs are surrounded by easy passalong plants.

And quirky yard art abounds, like this sink planted up with succulents and…ew, what IS that? It looks like an enormous, hairy-legged spider is crawling out of the sink basin—perfect for Halloween.

The garden did contain numerous skeleton art pieces, but these are not for Halloween but rather Dia de los Muertos (Day of the Dead), a loving tribute to family members who’ve passed away. This tradition is popular in Austin too.

A colorful Dia de los Muertos altar contains photos of departed family, festively painted skulls, and, traditionally, small gifts of the favorite foods of the departed.

But Day of the Dead isn’t until after Halloween, so I’ll leave you with this spooky predawn image from the botanical gardens. Boo!

For a look back at my first post about Tucson Botanical Gardens, click here. Up next: A candlelit tour of Tucson designer and author Scott Calhoun’s Zona Gardens.

All material © 2006-2012 by Pam Penick for Digging. Unauthorized reproduction prohibited.