| Cover Story | Northwest Gardens | First Person | Now & Then |
WRITTEN BY VALERIE EASTON PHOTOGRAPHED BY BARRY WONG
FRAMED IN NATURE
Wolfe has shaped his own West Seattle garden and Craftsman house in the same thoughtful, integrated fashion. The house fits into the curve of the slope, as much a part of the natural environment as the rocks, streams, waterfalls and plants that surround it.
Wolfe grew up in West Seattle, only a mile from where he now lives. In 1986, briefly back in Seattle from one of his many jaunts, he spotted the 1904 Craftsman high on a bluff. It was one of the original houses built in West Seattle, close to falling down and covered with ivy. The garden was nothing but nasty grass and old rhododendrons, with a steep path leading straight down the hill from house to carport. Despite the property's derelict condition, Wolfe was taken with the wide-open view of Puget Sound and the Olympics. Ignoring his parents' warning, he bought the property.
Wolfe's inspiration came from two quite different landscapes. Years ago he trekked a 3,000-foot peak in Southern China called Huashan, whose name means beautiful mountain. It is a place revered by the Chinese for its vertical rock and twisted pine trees. While Wolfe's intent wasn't to copy what he saw there, he tried to emulate the spirituality and beauty of its landscape. The garden's boulders, pruned out pines and restrained plant palette capture the hushed atmosphere of the Chinese mountain.
The stream of water that links the house at the top of the bluff with the entry far below was the first element Wolfe created. He rented a backhoe and started moving things around, carving out a stream bed. At the same time he was remodeling the house, whose interior when Wolfe purchased it consisted of velvet wallpaper and red shag carpet. A priority was to open the house to the garden. Now the view side of the house is wrapped in double glass doors. The wooden deck extends the living space to overhang a pond filled with darkly spotted rainbow trout. They move through the pond restlessly, appearing as flickering shadows in the deep water.
Just outside the door, the fog rolling in off Puget Sound conspires to create the feel of a timeless Chinese landscape. It swirls around the twisted pine trees and collects in the hollows between the boulders. Moss, encouraged by occasional brushings with diluted sour cream, softens and ages the stones. Wolfe collected moss from old clearcuts, bringing it back to the garden, carefully weeding to keep the native mosses from being overwhelmed by more aggressive ground covers. In spring, native trillium and bleeding heart lighten the garden, but autumn is when it comes into full glory. The sooty blackness of a burned-out snag and the smooth gray of the stones show off the intense oranges, reds and golds of the Japanese maples, which Wolfe prunes himself. Their filigreed leaves float to the ground to rest on the dark, soft green of ferns and moss. Water swirls down the channels and tumbles around the stones, rushing in some places and falling in others from pond to pond in clear sheets. It collects in still ponds to reflect the overhanging canopies of the maples. The pines consort with the boulders, their needles artfully splayed against the stone, their gnarled trunks curved about the craggy contours. As surely as Wolfe's famous photos capture zebras grazing the plains of the Serengeti and wolves in the wilderness, these Asian atmospherics set against the backdrop of Northwest naturalism bring meaning and beauty to his own home and garden. Valerie Easton is manager at the Miller Horticultural Library. Her book, "Plant Life: Growing a Garden in the Pacific Northwest" (Sasquatch Books, 2002), is an updated selection of her magazine columns. Her e-mail address is vjeaston@aol.com. Barry Wong is a Pacific Northwest magazine staff photographer. |
| Cover Story | Northwest Gardens | First Person | Now & Then |