Photo by Ted Yarwood
A bungalow makeover
A small patch of yard is transformed into an easy-to-maintain, multi-functional sanctuary
When I bought my tiny Toronto bungalow seven years ago, the backyard was one of the selling features. It was cozy and private, just large enough to be usable without being a burden to maintain. (At the time, I defined “burden” as anything that took longer than 3.7 minutes to mow.) Flowering shrubs ringed a square of grass; a basic patio hugged the back of the house. Nothing fancy, which was fine by me.
Then came the attack of the lawn-rolling varmints. Every morning I’d wake up to another strip of lawn pulled back as wildlife searched for grubs. Mowing was no longer necessary, since almost none of the grass survived. And truth be told, I was ready to move beyond grass. In fact, I almost never ventured onto the grassy (OK, now dirty) patch that took up two-thirds of the yard, and in a space so small, it was a waste. It was time to rethink the backyard. Maybe I’d even do some gardening.
My vague “I don’t like to mow grass and I like 1950s style” became a retro reality as Nickolaos Kon of Fossil Landscapes reconceptualized my predictable east-facing backyard as a mid-century-inspired oasis. Kon’s design created two garden rooms connected by a pathway: a dining platform under an arbour and a stone patio seating area next to the house. A Japanese maple, magnolia and purple beech joined the existing shrubs, along with hydrangea and low evergreens. The paint colours? Chocolate brown for the wood structures, acid green for the furniture cushions and punchy orange for the back of the house.
“That’s a brave colour,” uttered my painter as the final coat of orange dried. Oh sure, I could call it burnt sienna, pumpkin or even Mexican sunset, but we all knew it was capital-O orange. He was right: it was brave—and I loved it.
That was four years ago. And as the orange faded under the summer sun, my love for its bold “look at me!” energy faded, too. The wisteria Kon had planted on the arbour now created dappled shade, the Japanese maple draped over the pond and the weeping purple beech had matured into a lush specimen. While there was no mowing, I found myself puttering a lot—filling in blank spots for a tighter planting, trying out bee balm and foxgloves, and pulling weeds next to the patio.
The backyard that I’d originally envisioned as “entertainment central” had instead become my retreat, the place where I relaxed and recharged. Oh, I invited friends over—but it was more about leisurely wine-soaked dinners than dance-the-night-away parties. “Brave” and “bold” weren’t what I was looking for; “calm” and “relaxed” were. It was time to rethink the paint choices.
And so my little yard was transformed again, this time with softer, coastal-inspired hues. Nothing’s shouting to be looked at: it’s all just calmly there, in cloud white and softly tinged blue. Now the colourful stars are the purple foliage of the trees and grasses, the rich greens of the leaves, and the blooms on the lilacs, weigela and rose of Sharon that blossom in succession throughout the season. I’m still no expert gardener, but I’m learning. And I love it.
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