Permaculture and Barrack's Lane Community Garden

I've started to think about ways of writing about permaculture without being too earnest  - it's the sort of topic that can inspire a lot of worthiness! It's also an idea which most people have heard of, but few can nail down - myself included. I'm not sure it can be defined neatly, but after attending Phil Pritchard's  Introduction to Permaculture Design course at Barrack's Lane Community Garden this summer I came away with a much clearer idea of what it was all about. Not a definition, but a set of principles, a way of seeing, and a way of doing. What really impressed me was the emphasis on intelligent observation - looking closely over time at the way in which natural ecosystems work, and designing ways of emulating these. I also like the emphasis on inputs and outputs, yields and effort - observing the ways in which ecosystems produce maximum effect for minimum input.

The classic permaculture system is the forest - it was observation of the forests and their productivity which inspired the two 'founders' of the Permaculture movement, Bill Mollison and David Holmgren to begin a scientific exploration and development of permaculture principles and methods. Observing the way that the plants in the forest grew together to get the maximum yield from the available resources inspired the classic permaculture design principles of stacking, layering, succession, companion planting, intercropping, and encouraging biodiversity.

Over the years these principles have been extended from horticultural and agricultural applications ways of designing all aspects of human settlement - from land-use design to community relations.

As well as the Introduction to Permaculture Design course at Barrack's Lane Community Garden, Phil also runs a year-long Permaculture Course Design course at the garden. The students on this course have used the garden as a testing ground for many of the ideas and principles they have been learning about.

They've come up with some really innovative ideas to improve various aspects of the garden - grouping them under headings such as Visual Impact, Signage, Waste, Infrastructure, Fun/Interactive, Growing, Outreach, and Water.

What I'm going to do in this series of Permaculture blogs is write about some of these ideas, and how we are trying to implement them. The first post in this series will be on Rainwater Harvesting at the garden.

Clay Ponds and Puddling

One of the really good outcomes of the Introduction to Permaculture Design course I went to at Barrack's Lane Community Garden this summer was meeting a group of like-minded local people, who wanted to explore and use the principles of permaculture in their day-to-day lives.  Eka Morgan was on the course, and wanted to build a natural clay pond in her garden - she had the bright (and very permaculture)  idea of turning this into an opportunity for a group of people to learn about this old but largely neglected technique for creating ponds. Clive Leeke led the course. We'd Clive met on the permaculture course, he has been building clay ponds for decades, and is one of the few people who knows enough about this technique to teach it. Four of us shared the cost of his time for a day, and on Sunday we turned up at Eka's garden with spades, gloves, wellington boots, and a lot of energy. The spades, gloves, wellingtons were fine - the energy was just enough, this is tough work!

We started with Clive giving us a brief overview of the essentials - siting the pond, its aspect, depths and levels that are wildlife- and plant-friendly, and most importantly, types and sources of clay which are suitable for this technique.

However, Clive's a man for action, so we didn't spend too much time on the preliminaries, and were soon (and literally) knee-deep in the practicalities. Eka showed us the site she'd chosen and started to excavate. It was a good choice, so two of us set about deepening and widening the excavation. The other two started digging and barrow- ing the tonne of  clay which Eka had delivered to the front of her terrace house. This is the stuff you make pots from - more or less. It's just as gloopy and hard to manipulate, but probably has more mineral impurities than the average potter would tolerate. But not easy to dig from a bulk-bag into wheel-barrow.

Then the exciting stuff began - Clive showed us how to  'puddle' 'tiles' from the sticky grey mass in front of us - break a bit off, about the size of tennis ball, or two, and tread it with boots to a irregular but roughly circular tile about 2 or 3 cm thick. As you can see from this description, this is not a precise art, but a craft - you try, see what works, judge , and adjust.

We had a couple of tile makers up top, and a couple of tilers in the excavation. The tilers were hammering (with fists and boots) the clay tiles into the bare earth of the excavation, literally plastering  the tiles  by their own stickiness to the soil. Our aim was to build a solid and impenetrable first layer of overlapping tiles over the soil of the initial excavation.

This took a long time - almost two hours later, and several wheel-barrow loads of clay later,  we were finishing the first layer. It was 1pm, how were we going get another two layers done before it got dark?

Amazingly, we'd done the tough part. The next two layers went like a dream, either we'd got more skilled, or the job got easier with extra layers. We did a quick measure with spirit levels to make sure we'd got the edges correct, and trimmed the clay precisely. By 3.30 we were ready to fill our new pond.  But how disaster can strike !

We were filling from the water butt attached to Eka's shed - and suddenly the whole lot collapsed - not quite the shed, but the plinth, the butt, and the pipes. Oh those cute foxes, what damage they can do with their underground tunnels and earths. All of a sudden our work-force of four was halved, as two people had to prop up the water butt, whilst the other two tried to empty its contents via the hose into the pond, before the butt collapsed into the (surprisingly) deep fox-created hole underneath its plinth.

We survived and so did the pond. We're  not sure what the foxes are adding yet, though we very much hope they're not eating the frogs!

Cabbages and kings - rotation and planning for the vegetable gardener

I visited Chateau de Villandry in July, for the first time, and marvelled at the size and scope of the kitchen gardens - nine squares of low box hedges, each the size of a small allotment plot, filled with a meticulous geometry of colourful, healthy vegetables and herbs - from cabbages to celery, basil to beets, and pears to peppers.

What's even more impressive is that these immaculate gardens are being converted to organic methods - which makes careful rotation of the crops very important.  The beautifully drawn plan presenting the scheme for summer 2010 was an inspiration.  

So often I leave the planning of crop rotation until the last minute, and then scribble it hastily on pieces of paper which get progressively scruffier throughout the season. So this year I have taken a leaf out of Villandry's admirable book, and tried to create a lasting and attractive plan, showing crop positions for the last three years, and for the forthcoming autumn/winter and spring/summer seasons. It's always so much more complicated than I think. Partly because like all predictions that involve plants, the weather , and soil, I can never be sure when the growing season will begin and end, and when the space will become free. Will the early peas finish in time for me to plant out the climbing beans and courgettes in that space? Will I manage to organise the delivery of the manure before the ground becomes to sodden or frozen? Oh well, at least I have the drawings to refer to if the seasons don't behave, and like all plans they can be changed to suit the weather! 

Bitter blackberries?

I've just got back from a week's holiday on the North coast of Norfolk, a new landscape for me -  sand dunes, long sandy beaches, and a distinctive vernacular architecture of flint and brick.  More of Norfolk another day!

Whilst away I was bemused by an article in Guardian (7 September, Patrick Barkham) - 'And Now for a Very Peculiar Autumn' . I don't know where Patrick lives, or when he starts his Autumn calendar, but by my reckoning we were only 7 days into Autumn when the article was published. And whilst the article bemoaned the 'season of unripened fruit, sour blackberries, and piddling conkers' it said nothing of the magnificence of the late summer harvest we have had this year. It's been an August of fruits and berries such as I can scarcely remember - plums, damsons and cherries dripping off the trees and coating the footpaths and lanes, sloes and hips bursting from the hedgerows, rowanberries, berberis, and argusier berries colouring the trees and bushes with jewel like intensity.

If we were living 500 years ago I'm sure this would have been remembered as a great year for free food, a summer and autumn to fill our cupboards with jams and fruit cheeses, syrups, pickles and dried fruits to shore us up against winter cold and the early hungry gap.

But yes, I admit, some of the blackberries have been bitter! But there's plenty of autumn left yet.

Body and Soul - the 2010 Garden Festival, Chaumont sur Loire

Cheveux des Anges - Angels' Hair

This year's Chaumont Festival featured 26 gardens designed around concepts of 'body and soul' . Interpretations ranged from the ethereal and other-worldly 'Cheveux des Anges' (Angel's hair,  above) to the drily ironic ' Le vilain petit jardin de Jean-Michel Vilian (Jack's Ugly Garden).

Le vilain petit jardin de Jean-Michel Vilain

Jack's Ugly Garden was one my favourites - a wry comment on both the theme of the festival, and the perfectionism associated with 'show' gardens. In Jack's Ugly Garden we are introduced not to a peaceful and harmonious space, beautifully designed to rest both body and soul, but the neglected, random, and hostile space of a grumpy old man. Here, Jack's dirty linen is hung out to dry, his toilet is open to view, his vegetables abandoned, his annoying and unwelcome visitor pushed into the nettles. It feels like all our gardening sins and bad-tempered moments collected into one place. It brings a smile to everybody's face (although I did see one woman pick-up the artfully placed litter -a can of Red Bull thrust into the postbox on the garden gate -  and tidy it away with an annoyed shake of her head).

Hortitherapie sensorielle

Le jardin qui chante

A lot of gardens followed through the theme of body and soul with concepts related to therapy and well-being - some were a bit literal for (even) my taste, although I loved 'Un Divan au Jardin'  where an iconic psychotherapist's couch was placed beneath the only 'listener' in the garden, a tree, 'silent and benevolent' .  One of the most striking images of the festival was the steel sculpture of a man laying down in the garden 'Hortitherapie sensorielle' - shaped from rounds of rusted    steel, lying full stretch and seemingly contented and relaxed across the space. Other gardens looked at the healing properties of tea (Bon thé, Bon genre - Posh Tea, Posh People) and herbs (Le carré des simples), or the therapeutic sound of birdsong  (Le jardin qui chante - The singing garden) which featured dozens of bird nesting boxes, each with a description of a bird species, its eggs, and a recording of its song which played on pressing a button, and filled that area of the festival grounds with an intriguing and improbable mix of song. 

Ma Terre, Mater

Themes of birth, and the metaphores of earth and womb, sky and soul were also explored. One of my favourite gardens of the show was 'Ma Terre, Mater' in which the visitor is taken on a barefoot, spiralling journey through soft planting and different textures to the centre or womb of the garden, and then 'born' through a tunnel-like exit. 

Homage à Lady Day

For the me, the most beautiful and haunting gardens were those which took an oblique interpretation of the theme -   'Homage à Lady Day', shamelessly punning on 'Soul' to present the music of Bille Holiday in a garden that was a surreal interpretation of a jazz club, with a grand piano seeming to float in a field of flowers.  'Caligrame' was a beautiful and subtle interpretation of the theme, deriving from Shintoism and communication with the souls of ancestors, and the plants that are used to make ceremonial papers. 'Métampsychose' ruminated hauntingly on the ancestors of the designer, portrayed by photographs in the garden as souls reincarnated as birds. But perhaps my favourite of all these was 'Le jardin de terre gaste', (The Wasteland) a mediation on the soul and intent of gardens in the modern world, on the traditional role of the garden as a place of retreat and rest for the soul and body, and a more modern role as a symbol of resistance to and even attack on an encroaching materialism and a desert - or wasteland - of the soul. The resting places in the garden offered the visitor a retreat, and the chance to contemplate the role of the garden in our hearts and in society through the words of writers such as Ian Hamilton Finlay - 'Garden Centres will become the Jacobins of the new revolution' ! 

Le jardin de la terre gaste

Falling in love - with a meadow turf roof!

So, I fell in love ...with several metres of very special turf. This Saturday (31 August) a team of volunteers and two generous experts installed the new green roof at Barracks Lane Community Garden. It looks interesting even now, and will be gloroius in about 6 weeks time.

To install the roof we had to get three tonnes of soil off the back of a trailer, 20m down a narrow alley, and up 2 metres onto the roof of our shelter - all without any electrical or mechanical power, just people, barrows, trugs, and a lot of good will.

We had 16 volunteers and although the intention was to work in shifts of four or five people for an hour at a time, in the end we just all mucked in, taking a rest when we felt like it. We got the soil up onto the roof in about three hours, and then had the fun of lifting up and unfurling the rolls of meadow turf on the roof.

The turf is purpose grown for roofs by Wildflower Turf on James Hewetson-Brown's farm just outside Newbury. It contains 30 species of native wildflower, and four species of grass. James grows it on hessian mats, and this makes it easy to lift, and creates a mat of roots that establish quickly. Once established we shouldn't need to water - even in a drought. It may turn to hay, but with an annual cut in Autumn, it should come back to life each Spring. But at the moment, and in our current drought, it needs to be watered every day - a bit like taking the dog for a walk!

The roof design was done with Kay and Gareth Davies of Oxford Green Roofs - they helped us design the roof so that it retained the soil, put in the layers of butyl and fleece needed to line the roof, and finally organised the supply of the soil and turf. But most importantly they showed the volunteers what to do and how to do it as well as lending a lot of muscle power themselves. They donated their time and expertise to the garden, and we are very grateful!

For Barracks Lane Community Garden as well as contributing to the biodiversity of the site, and increasing the number of native and local species we grow, the roof is also designed to help deal with the rainwater run-off from the shelter, and the concrete slope at the top of the garden. The roof will absorb some rainwater, and what is left over will drain through the gully at the back of the green roof and be collected in a butt to add to the garden's water harvesting and storage system.

Green Roof and Solar Panels for Barracks Lane Community Garden

At Barracks Lane Community Garden our eco shelter is moving forward! Thanks to a generous grant from the Trust for the Oxfordshire Environment and the Oxfordshire Preservation Trust we have started the installation of a green roof and solar panels on our new shelter.

The green roof is being supplied by Oxford Green Roofs, and the owners, Kay and Gareth Davies are generously donating their time and expertise, charging us only for materials. The first phase, installation of the butyl liner and the edging restraint was completed in May, and we have now fixed a date to complete the roof the substrate and meadow turfing. 31st July is a while away - we had to find a weekend date when the garden wasn't being used by young children, and when we could gather together enough volunteers to barrow the substrate down the access lane and onto the roof.

We already have a great group of volunteers from Phil Pritchard's permaculture group, and I'm sure when we advertise more widely for volunteers there will be quite a few garden users who want to learn about green roof installation.

It's such a good time to be doing this, with the RSPB and wildlife trusts appealing to gardeners and developers to think about creating wildlife corridors and habitats. At Barracks Lane we'll be able to show all our visitors how a green roof can add beauty and biodiversity to a garden and neighbourhood. Our roof is going be meadowturf, not sedum, and will offer habitat to a range of insects and birds. Watch this space for pictures later in the year!

Meanwhile, Russell Dominian who built the eco shelter at Barracks Lane, has the first 'green roof' in a van that I've ever seen!

The solar panels are now in position on the roof, waiting for connection to the grid. This is proving to be more problematic that anticipated because of the need to dig a new trench through the concrete access pathway. But we're investigating a number of solutions, and hope to have this sorted by next week. Meanwhile I am busy designing a cupboard to house the meter and inverter for the panels and grid connection - not just any old cupboard, but one which has a see-through door at eye-level, so that children (and adults) can learn about how energy from the sun can make electricity for us all.