Hartley Magazine

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Happiness is a Garden

It all depends how you look at it. Is your garden a demanding diva, that requires the constant attentions of the stylist, the groomer, the maid-of-all-work to keep the whole shebang tidy? Or is just plain fun to be with? A place that makes you laugh, mostly at mistakes that, to your eye, turn out surprisingly well; of ornaments that have meaning to you, but others might be all “where’d you ever drag that up from?” Are weird plants attractive? Do you consign some to ugly corner?

Taking a long hard look at my patch, I recall how it started with aspirations to diva-ness. Formal beds neatly edged, choice plants the envy of all who gazed upon them, a mini-potager complete with central fountain. Well, today, looking at what I’ve created makes me giggle. The mini-potager is framed by wire fence and sticks to keep the dogs out, planted as it is with things being rescued. The corners are marked with discarded metal fence posts topped with upturned flowerpots, so I don’t put my eye out reaching in to pick some chives.

This golden orb, a relic of my garden in England that once topped a trelliswork obelisk, is actually a toilet ballcock that I laminated with fake goldleaf…it looks just dandy if a bit dinged but brings back some of my favorite goofy memories of the old garden.

You get the drift. A garden is a place to enjoy and if one aspires to stately home landscapes, go for it. But I find it’s easier not to take oneself or garden too seriously.

Levens Hall, the oldest topiary garden in England, dates from 1689 and was heavily influenced by the work of the French landscape master, Le Nôtre, who created Versailles for Louis XIV. This is the doll-sized version, but walking into it was overwhelming, this suze if the topiary and the shades of green and gold, bewitching. Photo by George Wright from my book, English Topiary Gardens.

Although, having researched and lectured about outsider art and gardens, I learned that the makers of such wonderfully wacky landscapes often take it Very Seriously, but not too seriously. For example, topiary gardens, that I experienced compiling my book on the English sort, from the small cottage peacock in box wood the magical Levens Hall garden of great age. One of the foremost examples of the topiary art is in North America, the Pearl Fryar Topiary Garden in South Carolina. Pearl credited the years he spent living in New York City as the foundational experience that led him to create the three acres of architecturally clipped trees and shrubs that make up the garden. Describing himself, Pearl once said, “I’m just a man who cuts up bushes”, ones that he rescued from compost piles around town.

Portrait of the artist at work: Pearl Fryar cutting up some trees.

I have no idea what inspired the chess-piece like topiary of Levens Hall garden, but Pearl, who passed away earlier this month, on April 4, 2026, found joy in the fellowship the garden brought to his life, and to that of others. Quoting from the garden website, Pearl viewed his life and work as “service to family Spirit and community.” And how much fun has that brought to him and the hundreds who visit the garden every year? Plenty, I’d wager.

Requiescat in pace, Mr. Fryar, and thank you for the smiles.

Pearl Fryar’s garden was his message to visitors and to the world. Photo from The Garden Conservancy, Dustin Shores.

Visit PearlFryargarden.org to learn about the place and man who made it.