The Evolution of the Herb Garden: From Overgrown Wilderness to Sanctuary

The large and overgrown rhododendron on the left of the driveway.

Every garden has a history, but some begin with a dramatic clearing away of the past. When I first looked at the strip running up the side of my driveway, it was hard to envision anything flourishing. Massive, overgrown rhododendrons had taken over, tangled inextricably with thick, aggressive blackberry canes. Not only were they blocking out the light, but they had also grown right up through the power lines—a constant hazard that kept blowing our fuses during rough winter storms.

Tackling them was a massive job, but it came with its silver linings: I managed to salvage a great haul of firewood from the wreckage. However, what lay behind that wall of jungle revealed the true potential of the space.

The rhododendron encroached on the driveway.

It was hard going, a matted mess all tied together with blackberry.

Letting the sun in, the width of the original driveway was showing.

Uncovering the Microclimate

Once the rhododendrons and blackberries were pulled back, I found a stretch of rich ground blanketed in wonderful, deep leaf mulch. Better yet, it was backed by a stand of mature windbreak trees that offered natural protection from the harsh southern exposure.

I realized immediately that, if properly cleared, this hidden strip would create an ideal, sheltered microclimate for a herb garden. Of course, nature doesn’t give up space easily; the rest of the ground was choked with broom and blackberry. So, I set to work clearing it out piece by piece.

The jungle behind the rhododendron, I went to work on it with my 36v chainsaw & weedeater.

• Smart Clearcutting: As I broke down the brush, I put the tree branches to work, using them to build a dead hedge right under the shelterbelt. This acts as a barrier against drafts blowing in from under the trees, creating a cozy micro-habitat for the tender herbs I plan to plant in the spring. In time, the hedge will naturally break down and enrich the soil beneath it.

• Hidden Discoveries: Tearing out the dense blackberry thickets also felt like an archaeological dig. I began uncovering plants that had lain dormant beneath the shade and weeds for decades.

The 3 new Rowan Trees.

Echoes of the Past

Among the hidden treasures were three Rowan trees. Unlike the typical red-berried variety on the other side of the drive, these were a different strain destined to produce larger, vibrant orange berries.

The biggest surprise, though, came by the first spring. As the newly cleared ground finally felt the warmth of the sun for the first time in many years, a long, proud stand of daffodils suddenly emerged. Having survived decades buried beneath suffocating weeds, their sudden bloom was a touching testament to the days when this land—once part of the local church grounds—was lovingly cared for and tended.

As the ground was cleared and the sun allowed in, large stands of daffodils started popping up.

As the daffodils bloomed new life into what was wasteland.

Looking Forward

Transforming this space from a tangled hazard into a sanctuary hasn’t been easy, especially battling the elements through the cold and mud. But standing in the space now, surrounded by the shelterbelt, the newly uncovered Rowans, and the history beneath the soil, it feels ready. As winter yields to spring, this forgotten patch of ground is finally coming back to life—and my herb garden is ready to take root.

One perk was the many mounds of firewood