Other people's gardens — 60 Years at Grout Hill

Last Saturday I took a nice, meandering solo trip to visit a garden I hadn't been to for probably close to 10 years. Though I'd invited my sisters and partner, Joe, I was just as happy to make the day my own. I stopped in East Alstead at the cemetery to see the family stone, and ask my parents and oldest sister if they were enjoying the gorgeous carpet of creeping phlox that was everywhere. It gave the peaceful surroundings an enchanting glow. Grout Hill Gardens is located on a winding dirt road in Acworth. The drive between Alstead and the garden was a tad challenging but rich and interesting. Brooks ran parallel to the road, and occasionally underneath, and the rural farm feel of the area makes a relaxing drive even on a cool, cloudy day. Set on a 300-acre stretch of rolling farmland, Grout Hill Farm is owned by award-winning, venerable gardener, Kristian Fenderson. He and his late partner, Alston Barrett, began to reinvent the 1790s farmhouse, 1836 barn and its acreage into a sprawling arboretum and garden 60 years ago, which means the very first primulas and evergreens were planted around 1966. A true testament to the patience of a gardener. In a 2014 New Hampshire Home magazine article, Fenderson said the old farm was void of any plantings when he and Alston acquired the property save for a couple lilacs and a mock orange. As you wander up and down through the garden passageways, you come upon garden after garden and can't help but be awestruck by the magnitude of it all. The thousands of hours spent laboring, the monetary investment it took just in plant material to say nothing of the weekly hours of mowing the lawns must require. Fenderson has layered in a profusion of evergreens throughout Grout Hill that's quite effective. With contrasting shapes and varying leaf and needle color, the backdrop to the flower beds simply undulates in an informal yet storied way. I admired a grand old weeping larch that inspired me on my last visit to plant one in my Dublin gardens. Still not much more than knee-high at this point, mine's got a way to go to reach as dramatic effect of Fenderson's. Admiring dozens of different rhododendrons and azaleas, I stopped in front of a massive azalea that towered over me, ablaze with red-orange blooms. What struck me most was the buzzing of hundreds of bees all over the monster shrub. I'd seen honeybees and bumblebees throughout the property, but this shrub was some type of magnet to them because the buzzing sound was so loud, I thought for sure I'd eventually spy a huge, hanging nest of bald-face hornets through the branches. But no. It was just bees creating the cacophony. With not enough space here to name the hundreds of varieties of plants, I will point out one I didn't see this time. Kristian is famous for his Tibetan blue poppies. It's how I first heard about Grout Hill from a shop owner at the old Colony Mill in Keene years and years ago. Didn't see them this time. Probably a tad early. Just as I was winding down my tour, I circled the back of the farmhouse. Hearing voices above, I ascended the stone steps up to a beautiful, circular brick patio with dozens of planted pots around the perimeter. In the center, Kris was sitting with some visitors, chatting. I waved and identified myself. Kris called for me to come back up before I left. Not wanting to intrude, I told him the gardens looked spectacular and then took my leave through an azalea passageway.