L: a garden near Philadelphia. R: a side yard in the DC area, and a hydrangea-lined brick path in Buffalo.
My final bunch of photos of gardens tagged for prominent features shines the light on paths – the multi-purpose feature that’s sadly lacking in so many gardens. It makes access to other parts of the yard easy, beckons viewers into unseen parts, and like most “cues to care,” invites humans into the garden.
Above, some of the best-looking side yards I’ve ever seen, and two of them show groundcovers that successfully fill in between flagstones – a near miracle! One is Acorus gramineus ‘Minimus Aureus’ (thanks to commenters, including the homeowner, for identifying it) and the other, Creeping Jenny or mazus.
L: Bartholdi Gardens at the U.S. Botanic Garden. R: Hillwood Museum and Garden in D.C.
These more expensive paths in public gardens have no need for groundcovers between the pieces, and presumably no weeds to contend with.
L: Private garden in Wash, DC. R: at Chanticleer Garden near Philadelphia.
Above, two paths I love even though they’re not as exactly easy to navigate, but they provide access for maintenance and lead your eyes down into the space.
L: At the Sunset Magazine headquarters in the San Francisco area. R: the front garden of garden podcaster Leslie Harris in Charlottesville, VA.
The paths above get me thinking about walkability because boy, the one on the left signals to me that it’s NOT. It’s so uneven, so haphazardly arranged.
Whereas on the right, professional gardener (and now podcaster) Leslie Harris created this plenty-wide path that’s level, doesn’t get muddy and is good-looking. But I’ve had trouble with flagstone+pebble combinations in my lifetime and know that when you’re barefoot, you’d better not step on a pebble that’s ON a flagstone because it will hurt like holy hell! I mean surprisingly painful. So I avoid this combination but have recently learned that the pebbles can be basically cemented in place, preventing both foot pain and weeds. (Is that true?)
My Own Paths
Here’s my townhouse front yard, where I ripped out the lawn, then added a patio and paths for access. I made the stepping stones with a cake pan, cement, and spray paint. There’s woodchip mulch around them, which isn’t painful to my bare feet. Lower right, the paint in its faded condition, before I resprayed.
Here’s the flagstone path in my lawn-free back yard, where I needed something to grow between the flagstones that wouldn’t be washed away by rains on this gradual incline. Creeping Jenny does the job and is short enough to step over or on without being damaged.
This one isn’t actually “my path” but a short walk from my house and on a much grander scale. It’s the one-mile path around this lake made by a New Deal agency to put people to work; it’s now an important amenity for the community.
I know some residents have asked for lighting and a paved surface (for better accessibility) but boy, that would sure change the experience. Thankfully that won’t happen because most of us love it the way it is and there’s a lake with a paved path around it nearby. And to the suggestion of lighting we’ll keep saying no – for the sake of wildlife, and our own enjoyment of nature.
Finally, the paths shown above are no longer mine, since I sold the property 14 years ago. In my last years there I removed all the lawn and on the left you see the plants I replaced it with – clover and sedum (until the clover overtook all the sedum). The stepping stones across that open area are admittedly too small, which I suppose is why I later added a mulch path along the dry streambed, seen in the photo on the right.
The path that mattered the most to me over my 26 years living there is the one extending down into the woods, following the dry streambed and then proceeding to the bottom of the wooded valley where it crosses the stream and then continues for about two blocks. It was a rare “superblock” just outside D.C. in Takoma Park, Md.
So honestly, I miss the path into the wooded valley, where I started many of my walks, even more than the gardens I created around my house.
MORE Garden Features
These photo collections started when I learned (from GardenRanter Ben) that I could search for tags just using Windows Explorer – no extra software! So began a fun winter project – scrolling through thousands of photos taken over at least 20 years, and tagging the hell out of them. For my enjoyment and yours. The others are:
“One looks like a chartreuse mondo grass”
I think that is Acorus gramineus ‘Minimus Aureus’?
And are the pictures of Leslie Harris garden from her old house she sold a few years ago in Charlottesville, or her new place?
That’s Leslie’s old garden. I visited just before she sold it. Amazing.
That sounds right. Thx
Susan, thanks for featuring my old garden (that I miss, sniff) and I think you are correct about being able to fix gravel to itself, though I don’t know how. You are definitely right about the nervous system-affirming feeling of a piece of gravel between bare foot and flag stone. I don’t think I would have chosen that if there were active kids or dogs in the household at that time. But I loved putting that garden together. The whole thing (except 4 small trees and a few ilex under the windows) was grass. That gravel was an amazing little nursery of cleome, viola and larkspur. What a pleasure to see it!
As a lover of cool front yards in particular, I’m a big fan of that one! Even on a raining morning. Bet it was fun to see it change throughout the season as you walked by it. SUCH an important spot@
A few thoughts:
pea gravel, as appealing as it looks, moves around more underfoot and may lodge into shoe/boot soles more than various other stone gravel with each tiny stone’s flat angled surfaces.
I often find it to be a healthy mindset to design a pathway by planting various tight ground covers in pleasing drifts, THEN locating the stepping stones. It feels as if you are walking through one composition. The stones are an overlay of a place already handsomely composed.
Awww shucks. The new owners are taking care of it decently well, and I am very grateful to be able to see it sometimes.
Beautiful garden paths and a great post.. I love pea gravel paths because they are so evocative of English gardens to me. I would love to hear from anyone who has used the liquid you linked to that secures gravel and mulch in place, especially whether it greatly reduces weeds from growing in the gravel. That’s one of my pet peeves and most difficult maintenence tasks. Does it work for that long-ish term and what are the disadvantages (besides cost). I’d love to get that in place before summer weeds become a jungle in my walks.
“Gravel binder” products have me curious too.
Somehow, the gravel binder seems intuitively like a choice bound for regret. As seeds germinate in the inevitable voids there will be a challenge to keep gravel from becoming a weed accelerator
That’s my reaction too. And some beginner level research on the web points to environmental problems
Before everyone runs out to buy some glue for their rocks, I suggest searching on Reddit for terms like “rock, gravel glue binder.” Lots of discussion, including from actual landscapers, and yes, there seem to be problems, including environmental ones
My garden, Boulder Haven, in Berwyn, PA is the one featured with the dwarf golden sweet flag between the flagstones. It was correctly identified in another comment as Acorus gramineus ‘Minimus Aureus’.Thanks for featuring it!
Well, thank YOU for opening your garden to whatever tour I was on, and for confirming the plant ID! I’ll note the correction.
Perhaps the Fling Tour in 2023? Always happy to open my garden to fellow plant people.
Hi! I’m new here, so apologies for coming across this wonderful article late, but man, oh, man, I am so glad that I was able to visit a number of private gardens before digging in and building my own. The paths are the single most important design aspect of my (large-scale understory) garden: where they lay, how they meander, where they allow spots to rest and relax, and they define the beds themselves. At no point are these paths less than 42in wide. (And, they’re all arborist chipped; the resulting fungi has truly been a whole new world of discovery!)
It was such an invaluable lesson to walk on so many of these teeny tiny, uneven paths while navigating with a toddler, and likely awkwardly scooching to allow others to pass, and worrying about ticks and trips, all while seeing an awful lot of poison ivy. Phew! Totally agree with you.
If paths weren’t so difficult to make, however.