Making Peace With Your Enemy

When we first saw our home, I was delighted to discover that the yard was completely devoid of plantings. The garden space was very large for San Francisco at 25' X 55'; most lots are only 25' X 100'. It also had full southern exposure. I was looking forward to designing my own garden, so there was no plant or tree to be eliminated or moved.

After the purchase, I paid attention to the sunshine and how it moved through the yard for the first year. I discovered perfect places to plant my fruit trees for optimal sun exposure that way. In the late afternoons a neighbor's tree shades part of the yard, so that area was saved for my two Japanese maples that would do well in dappled sunlight. In the interim, the purchase of large clay pots made do for homes to the plants I just couldn't wait to buy. Hard scape went in after we pulled out two old chimneys and recycled the used brick. During the first year I also discovered many old granite cobbles that had been buried under all the weeds, so they were used to create a retaining wall for the middle patio since the lot slopes to the south.

I had not noticed for a few months that we actually did have a few plants, wild blackberries. They grow along the highways and byways of Northern California and are considered weeds by most people. Since I used to gather wild berries for making jam, I thought it might be nice to keep them, until they started spreading. I started pulling them out, but they would return each year. Then I dug up the roots, but they still returned and would sneak in under the fence from my neighbor's unkempt yard. I sprayed them, hacked at them, screamed at them when they'd "bite" me with those pesky thorns, and cut them back each year.

They were tenacious! What was I to do? As luck would have it, I was gifted with a 9' X 2 1/2' ironwork fence and decided to make peace with the berry vines. I staked the fence in front of some fruit trees in the back of the garden, directly in front of the most egregious berry patch and worked the canes through the fence, weaving them in and out of the ironwork. Today it represents a truce between me and my greatest garden nemesis. It also looks lovely and the birds share the berries with me.