By Gardening
Thursday, April 5, 2007

Meet Lauren Wiseman. Lauren lives with her husband, Dave, in Chevy Chase. Like a lot of young couples, they have been delighted to buy their first home, and have spent the past two years settling in and putting their stamp on the place.

Lauren now finds herself drawn to the yard, an attraction that is curious given the fact that before moving to the Washington area and into her 1940s Colonial in Rock Creek Forest, she lived for 10 years in a tiny Manhattan apartment with two roommates. "The only greenery," she says, "was a lone African violet that we kept in an oversized coffee mug."

But when she reaches back to her childhood, she remembers her mother lovingly raising vegetables and herbs in suburban New York. Lauren and Dave's house sits in the middle of an 8,000 square foot lot, sloping from the street all the way to the rear wooden privacy fence. Like a lot of older homes, it has some overgrown shrubbery and trees and some areas that need sprucing up, but the yard has lots of space and oodles of potential.

As Lauren seeks a way to make sense of her own large yard, her mother's example resonates with her, even if her gardening knowledge is lacking and she seems a little overwhelmed by the task.

Lauren, an editorial aide in The Post's Anne Arundel bureau, has asked for my help in making a garden and in becoming a gardener. I've told her that the path ahead is long but positive, to be a gardener is to have an enriched life. The task will be a blend of work and joyful creation, with a few treats along the way. Already, Lauren has found a fetching pair of leopard-print boots. "J. Crew," she says, anticipating my question.

The chance to lead a novice down the same garden path that all seasoned gardeners have taken is, to me, irresistible. Even more so is the opportunity to share this journey with readers, both in the ink-on-paper Home section and online at washingtonpost.com, where most of this adventure will take place.

We can't predict all the turns and tribulations ahead -- indeed, much of the fun will be in addressing unexpected problems -- but we will be guided by two basic truths in gardening: that you learn by doing and that the most powerful partner in your efforts is also the least tangible: time. Lauren will have projects for quick transformations, but other elements will bear fruit over many seasons.

There are a couple of other compelling aspects to this venture: Lauren and Dave have a property much like yours, we suspect, with front, side and back yards graced and afflicted by slopes, clay soil, drainage issues, a deck that needs attention, and areas of old and tired plantings and quite a bit of flower-depleting shade.

The other reason to share this journey is that at 33, both Lauren and Dave represent the future of gardening. If you believe the hype -- and many in the green industry do -- younger homeowners have neither the time nor the interest in the types of domestic pursuits enjoyed by earlier generations, gardening among them. It seems that the current mantra is, pay somebody else to do it. But that is expensive, and not nearly as satisfying or enriching. So the conventional wisdom about the demise of gardening may not be so wise.

Don Eberly, a public relations executive in Atlanta, says that focus groups conducted by his company show a 15 percent increase in the number of homeowners ages 25 to 42 who are buying and using plants. "This is fascinating to us," he said, "because it's the age bracket being typed as not enjoying plants, not enjoying gardening."

Lauren is honest in saying that she doesn't know "what I am getting involved with, or if I will enjoy the process." I think she will, especially when she reviews her first success or two and sees her own powers of transformation.

I walked the property with her recently to assess the site and to ask Lauren what changes she would like to see. She wants to spruce up the front garden, now defined by a rather dull foundation planting. I see fixing that as part of a front-yard makeover that will also correct a thin lawn and a ground-cover bed that has become tired and ill-defined.

Lauren also would like to grow an herb garden, like her mother's, and this will become a priority for this spring. I would like something less romantic . . . to bury the drainpipes that now lie like great black serpents along the narrow side yard. And I see some relatively simple ways to fix the deck and its surroundings.

Sorting it all out will take patience and method, with each step either removing ugliness or adding beauty. The first measure, however, will be in forming the vision. Stay tuned.