Stepping into a well-tended garden that occupies a whole yard feels like gliding through the door of delight into a land of enchantment. At the garden of Alisa and Darry Huntsman, design, color, shape and scent harmonize into a lush, Edenic biome that seems effortless. Every sight line and corner holds something beautiful, clever or curious.
But there’s also the 500-gallon water tank, a reminder that it’s an investment and there are hard times. For the Huntsmans, it’s worth the labor for a harvest that feeds them and cultivates a healthy ecology.
Their yard-size garden (can we call it a “yarden”?) began in 2017 with a gentle approach to the difficult first task: humanely trapping and relocating the resident groundhog and raccoon. Then they enclosed the garden with a split-rail fence that supports muscadine vines.
The next job—the toughest—was the unspeakable effort to remove a quarter acre of turf.
But then, the fun part: they planted fig trees and bought some hens, which created a synergy.
The Huntsman hens spend their nights in a coop and their days in a clever chicken wire tunnel that stretches halfway around the garden perimeter. During the day, they eat pests and, uh, provide fertilizer. When the sun is too hot or they’re spooked by a hawk, they run under the fig trees.
You could call it beginner’s luck. “We didn’t realize how big those trees would get,” says Alisa. “As much as we like to think we know what we’re doing, we are continually surprised by what we don’t know.” Whatever. It worked.
A quarter-acre Eden
The vegetable patch within the fence and chicken run is a changing lineup of okra, bean towers, carrots, onions, beets, potato hills, chard, Brussels sprouts, broccoli, cauliflower, three tomato types and a lettuce bed. The variety makes for a satisfying cycle: there’s always something sprouting or fading, on the verge of blooming or just starting to fruit.
Grape vines of Cowart, Noble and Late Fry varieties are not technically theirs—they’re on the property line the Huntsmans share with their Egyptian neighbor. The neighbor just wants the grape leaves; the Huntsmans get the grapes. Blueberry bushes and blackberry vines mean summer fruit and winter jams, juice and more.
The Huntsmans’ bees are catered to with flowers and herbs specially selected for them. Marigolds, zinnias, calendula and nasturtiums give the bees plenty to snack on. Bees also love the smorgasbord of the herb patch: oregano, basil, parsley, mint, sage, thyme, rosemary and chives.
Many of their heirloom herb and vegetable varieties are sourced from the legendary Baker Creek seed company. Barry’s Crazy Cherry tomato, for example, is a sprawling vine that despises trellising. If allowed to flop over, “it produces a ridiculous amount of tomatoes,” says Alisa. Dr. Wyche’s Yellow tomato, also from Baker Creek, yields hefty 1-pound fruits with a bright pumpkin color. The tomato bounty, says Alisa, becomes “every tomato product I’ll need for a year” in her pantry.
Alisa also likes to search the catalog of Kitazawa, a seed company that offers Opalka tomato seeds, which are shaped like cow horns. If she’s feeling adventurous, Alisa buys Korean vegetable seeds at Fresh & Fresh International Market on Nolensville Road. “The instructions are in Korean. I don’t always know what I’m getting,” she says.
Mushroom logs are the purview of husband Darry, who is so harmonized with them that he knows precisely when they’re ready to pick. Right now he’s loving the lion’s mane mushrooms—when they’re sautéed, they really do taste like lobster.