Going Wild, Formally

In shades of pale, a sumptuous garden graces a grand Georgian

THE WILDNESS OF Fort Lawton spills over into the Quinton family's garden next door, where raccoons, possums and flocks of birds visit regularly. The Georgian-style stucco house is a bastion of symmetrical elegance set against the near-wilderness. The gravel forecourt furthers the impression of aged formality. Only the splays of bronze phormium underplanted with shiny expanses of Acanthus mollis flanking the front door hint at the horticultural wonderland 'round back.

Despite the home's feel of settled permanence, the Quintons built it just a dozen years ago. They tore down an old summerhouse, saving some of the mature rhododendrons, now laced with clematis. The new house rises out of the landscape, its clean lines and cream color providing structure and backdrop for the garden that billows up around it.

Sherrie Quinton met designer Dan Borroff years ago at the Northwest Flower & Garden Show, hiring him to create her previous garden on Queen Anne. "Dan knows I like a certain degree of structure with a lot of wildness in between," says Quinton of the tension between chaos and symmetry, wild borders and smooth lawn that define the new garden. "I used to be in the arts myself (she was a classical ballet dancer), so I think it's always better to let creative people go." Quinton knew what she wanted, leaving the fulfillment part of it to Borroff. "I wanted all the lawn in one place," she says, "and I love white — lots of white. The kids were young then, so we needed a sandbox and swingset. Other than that, Dan had full rein."

Borroff designed a sumptuous garden filled with unusual plants in pale tones. He used trees and shrubs in matching pairs to echo the symmetry of the house, from the phormium at the front door to the magnolias that flank the back border. Such gestures, along with the house's commanding presence, lend enough structure to tame, just a little, the bounteously planted borders.

Gravel paths lead from the forecourt around the house to outline the back lawn and borders. You walk through the tumbled lushness of lavatera and roses to find a "farm" filling the narrow, sunny side garden. Raised beds for vegetables, raspberries and grapes bask in the reflected sun off the house. Strawberries have jumped the fence to populate the parking strip; honeysuckle tumbles over the fence, too, wrapping its way up a dogwood.

Broad, low terraces wrap around the back of the house, leading down to the expansive lawn and double borders. Quinton's two daughters outvoted her son, and the little toolshed/playhouse at the far end of the lawn is painted periwinkle and lavender outside, pink inside. Even in pastels, the little building serves as a perfect focal point at the far end of the lawn.

What has become verdant garden started out as a huge mound of wood chips. "They brought in a caterpillar and started pushing around fertilizer, chips and compost," Quinton recalls. Next came hundreds of little plants. "We had a Volkswagen budget," says Quinton. "But in three years it was all grown up." Now the half-acre garden seems larger, evergreens obscuring its margins.

Quinton cares for the garden herself, getting help with some of the pruning and hauling out of debris. She listens to books on tapes while she works, sinking into the bliss of her private garden. "I never realized how much pleasure I'd get from it," Quinton says. "The kids leave me alone out here — nobody wants to help me weed."

Valerie Easton is a Seattle freelance writer and contributing editor for Horticulture magazine. Her e-mail address is valeaston@comcast.net. Mike Siegel is a Seattle Times staff photographer.