For awhile they lived out of boxes, then gradually moved all their things north. "We loved it here, and there was so much work to do, we just stayed," says Mari by way of explaining the transition from living in a 66-foot boat on an urban lake to restoring an old farmhouse in a wide-open, windy valley.

A former design professional who did little more than some container gardening in the condo she used to have, Mari now taps around her huge garden in strappy sandals and a little turquoise plaid shift, her cell phone ringing often with questions from the crew working on the property. Neither her tiny stature (she's 4 foot 10) nor her outfit ("I'm a Value Village kind of gal") keeps her from getting out there and planting, digging and harvesting, for the garden has become her full-time job and passion. "I didn't know where to start," she says, which is hard to believe now that five acres around the house are planted in formal gardens. Rows of Rod's trees take up more than 10 of the acres, and 25 acres are leased to farmers.
 

THE TRANSITIONS BETWEEN GARDENS are formal and rectilinear; in the lime walk, young trees are in training strung along wires, underplanted with 'Stargazer' lilies, crocosmia, catmint, euphorbia, lady's mantle and cape fuchsia (Phygelius species).
ALONG WITH A SMALL HERD of rabbits and the picturesque old barn, the dwarf pygmy goat Turlock reminds visitors that this is a farm, despite the acres of ornamental gardens.

As with many farms, the spaces are defined not only by plants and pathways but by the outbuildings. A goat house, built from plans in a book, shelters the twin pygmies Tabris and Turlock, who stand like statues atop their own little picnic table in a rare moment of inactivity. Rod gave Mari an old pump house for her birthday, which she's fixed up for eight Netherland dwarf rabbits, who lounge on their own little front porch. Rod's dad was spending so much time helping out on the property that Rod built his parents a tidy white house tucked inside its own garden near the now-restored barn, which is used for neighborhood parties. At Halloween, the Juntunens host a party in the spooky, high-ceilinged hayloft for all the kids who love to visit.

The design of the gardens began right outside the back door, where formal hedges block the wind that whips through the valley. Garden rooms nestle around the house, defined by the geometry of wide walkways and the structure of thick hedges of boxwood, Portuguese laurel and cypress. Even the herb and kitchen gardens are outlined with low hedges of germander and soft gray santolina.

The ultimate geometry is in the maze, its perfection of right angles perceived only when viewed from the farmhouse windows above. Planted just five years ago from one-gallon pots of cypress, the thick maze fills in the space between the old barn and the farmhouse.

The scale of the gardens is set by the mature trees, grown large from the valley soil enriched by years of dairy farming. There's a venerable weeping willow, huge beeches and two gnarly elm trees that flank the stone steps leading from the lawn up to the farmhouse. The Juntunens have painted their farmhouse yellow-green with crisp white trim. It stands out clearly from the darker green of lawn and trees as you approach up a long driveway lined with roses, poppies, lilies and nasturtiums growing around ornamental cherry trees.

You truly appreciate the scale of what the couple has undertaken when Mari waves her arm airily, saying, "We put that garden in last week." It looks to be nearly an acre of birch grove underplanted with rhododendrons, hydrangeas and perennials. "We treat perennials and trees like annuals," she laughs, explaining that this new garden was a compost pile just days ago. And while Mari had little gardening experience, she has farming in her blood. Her family grew vegetables and raspberries for years on Bainbridge Island.

Mari talks excitedly of the pond garden, Asian garden and Italian garden still in the conceptual stage. Rod plans and installs the hardscape and hedging, and Mari follows, planting bulbs, shrubs, herbs and perennials, in large part left over from Rod's landscape-business projects. The children's garden, enlivened with rusty cut-outs from Alice in Wonderland, is full of peonies that Mari says just appeared. It was easier to use them than try to return them, but since many of the plants she "inherits" aren't marked, the colors are often surprises.
 

	THE GARDEN IS MADE largely of recycled plants and objects, including this old feeding trough refurbished into a waterlily pond.

One place where color was the deciding factor is the white garden to one side of the farmhouse, modeled on the famous white garden at Sissinghurst in England. The elegant space is all emerald green and glowing white, with stretches of velvety lawn and stands of 'Casablanca' lilies, phlox, white-trimmed hostas and Japanese anemones delineated by boxwood hedging. The focal point of the garden is a vast arch of arbor, draped with a bower of the fragrant climber Rosa mulliganii.

A curiously effective hedging runs along one side of the white garden all the way past rows of raspberries, the kitchen and children's garden to the lime walk. An impenetrably thick wall of hornbeam is regimentally squared off at 5 feet high. In an equally regimented rhythm is an adjacent row of hornbeam trunks, pruned so the foliage starts several feet above the top of the hedge. This play of hornbeam against hornbeam creates almost an optical illusion — where does one tree start and another leave off? Such trickery needs twice-yearly pruning and occasional touching up, but the effort achieves formality without boredom, tradition with a twist.

Despite the help of the crew they share with Rod's business, the Juntunens work together on the gardens whenever they have the chance, meeting most often in the organic kitchen and herb garden, for both love to cook and entertain. One of the newest creations is a series of square, cobble-lined beds filled with flowers Mari calls her "Tussie-Mussie" garden, planted from seeds and nursery stock to provide flowers for bouquets. Here she grows a riotous mass of flowers — catmint, allium, fennel, snapdragons, gladiolas, cleomes, zinnias — all hand-watered daily. Luckily they grow right next to a row of golden raspberries so Mari can snack as she picks, snips and waters, plotting what she and Rod will plant next.

PLANNED AND PLANTED for the many neighbor kids and young relatives who visit the farm, the kids' garden has a fence of espaliered apple trees, colorful flowers and a patio and chairs for relaxing. In the background is the house and yard where the twin pygmy goats Tabris and Turlock live and frolic.

THE MATURE MAZE is made of cypress trees planted just five years ago from one-gallon pots. Like everything else in the Juntunens' garden, the plants have grown quickly, encouraged by the old dairy farm's rich soil.

Valerie Easton is manager at the Miller Horticultural Library. Her e-mail address is vjeaston@aol.com. Jacqueline Koch is a writer and photographer living on Whidbey Island.