When most people think of a pergola, they picture a pleasant place to sit beneath on a warm afternoon, perhaps with a cup of tea and a climbing rose overhead. Mine certainly will become that eventually, but that wasn’t the original motivation. As with many things in my medieval restoration garden, one idea has gradually evolved into something much bigger.
When I first sketched out the idea, I thought I was simply building a structure. As I’ve learned more about my walled garden, I’ve realised a pergola has become the answer to several quite different challenges. It started as a concept to provide protection for the ducks and an opportunity to support climbing plants. The more I worked with the idea, the bigger it grew and the more it covered. Literally. Designing it has become less about building a pergola, and more about understanding how all these different elements of my garden can work together.
An Ancient Garden with Its Own Climate
The garden itself is rather unusual. It is completely enclosed by ancient stone walls, with parts of those walls possibly dating back as far as the year 200. Living with such history is a privilege that I bask in. The walls provide complete privacy, shelter from the wind, and they create a remarkable microclimate. Being south facing, the garden wakes early in the morning, captures every available hour of sunshine as the sun tracks around the walls, and hangs onto that warmth long after the sun has disappeared.
In the colder months, this is wonderful. The walls absorb the day’s warmth and gently release it overnight, softening frosts and extending the growing season. It allows me to grow plants that would otherwise struggle. Summer, however, tells a rather different story. Over time I’ve realised that a walled garden behaves rather like an enormous plant pot. The walls trap heat, the soil dries surprisingly quickly, and everything needs considerably more water than an open garden.
The vegetables, growing in their raised hügelkultur beds, cope remarkably well for much of the year, but during the height of summer they can struggle. Despite the rich soil beneath them, the constant heat and drying effect means they behave much like plants growing in containers. That is they dry out quickly with the summers intensity.
A watering system is already planned for next winter. The intention is to make use of the house’s shower grey water to provide automatic irrigation throughout the garden. It seems rather sensible to reuse perfectly good water rather than continually relying on the mains supply, especially during increasingly dry summers. (This does require using specific products for cleaning myself and the shower that are not harmful to the land, or my ducks.)
But watering only treats the symptom. The more I watched how the garden behaved, the more I realised I needed to change the environment itself. That is where the pergola comes in.
It Started with the Ducks
Originally, the idea was surprisingly practical. My pet ducks roam freely around the garden and, while the surrounding inexcessible walls keep foxes at bay, they do little to discourage birds of prey. My first attempt at solving this was to suspend bird netting across the garden using wires stretched from wall to wall. On paper it seemed a simple enough solution, but in practice it proved to be far from ideal.
The unsupported spans were simply too great. The netting sagged over time, pockets formed where rainwater and leaves collected, and the occasional snowfall put even more strain on it. Each winter meant another section to repair, or another wire that needed tensioning. Keeping it neat and effective became a higher maintenance job than I had time for.
The pergola framework solved all of those problems at once. Instead of trying to support one enormous sheet of netting, each section can be stretched between the timbers. The shorter spans are much easier to put up, they don’t sag in the same way, and if a section is ever damaged it can be replaced individually rather than disturbing the entire garden. The netting almost disappears once it is taut, while still providing an effective barrier overhead.
It also means the ducks gain two forms of protection. The lattice of the pergola itself breaks up the open flight path, making it much harder for a hawk or buzzard to swoop directly down, while the netting provides a second line of defence. What started as a rather makeshift arrangement of wires and mesh has evolved into a permanent structure that not only protects the ducks, but also supports potential climbing plants.
More Than a Framework
As the design developed, I began to realise it could solve other problems. The plan evolved to extend the pergola across almost the entire garden. At first glance it feels rather ambitious, but provides the framework for something much more interesting. The structure itself was only the beginning.
Each spring and autumn, climbing roses, wisteria and other vigorous climbers have been gradually introduced. Time will have them weave themselves up and then across the timbers. In summer they will form a living canopy, filtering the harsh midday sun into gentle dappled shade. Rather than baking beneath relentless sunshine, the vegetables should receive enough light to thrive without constantly fighting heat stress and rapid evaporation.
Then, when winter arrives, nature does most of the work for me. The deciduous climbers lose their leaves, allowing the precious low winter sun to flood back into the garden. It’s a wonderfully simple seasonal solution that requires no moving parts or clever engineering. Just the natural rhythm of the plants themselves.
The raised beds sit neatly between the pergola posts, so each growing area will eventually enjoy this changing pattern of light and shade. I suspect the soil will retain moisture for longer, watering requirements should reduce, and perhaps the whole garden will become a little more forgiving during prolonged hot spells.
Growing Upwards as Well as Outwards
Like many old walled gardens, mine is long on character but rather short on space. There is only so much ground to plant, and every square metre has to earn its keep. That has encouraged me to think beyond the footprint of the garden itself.
The pergola creates an entirely new layer of growing space. Instead of simply gardening across the ground, I can now garden upwards as well. The climbing plants will eventually transform the overhead beams into an above ground floral garden, while the sturdy framework provides countless places to suspend baskets, lanterns, bird feeders and, no doubt, the odd experiment that seemed like a good idea at the time.
Growing vertically has another advantage. By lifting plants off the ground, I can make better use of the limited space without overcrowding the beds below. The vegetables remain in the hugelkultur beds where they have deep, fertile soil, while the climbers occupy the air above them. It is rather like adding another storey to the garden.
As the planting matures, I hope the pergola will blur the distinction between structure and garden. Instead of seeing timber overhead, the eye will be drawn to layers of foliage, flowers and scent, making the garden feel larger than its physical dimensions suggest. In a relatively compact space, that extra dimension is every bit as valuable as gaining more ground.
Looking Ahead
Time, of course, will tell. Gardening has an excellent way of reminding us that certainty is often in short supply. Every season teaches something new, and every project seems to uncover another lesson that wasn’t obvious at the beginning. This pergola is no exception.
What began as an idea to protect a few ducks has become an experiment in managing heat, conserving water, encouraging healthier plants, and making better use of the unique environment created by the ancient surrounding walls. Perhaps that is one of the joys of restoring an old garden. I’m not simply imposing new ideas upon it. Instead, I enjoy spending time listening to what the garden is telling me, understanding how it behaves, and then working with it rather than against it.
If, in a few years’ time, I can walk beneath a roof of scented roses and cascading wisteria, with vegetables flourishing in the dappled shade below and ducks wandering safely underneath, I shall consider the pergola one of the better ideas this old garden has inspired.
More Garden Musings
If you enjoy musings on gardening, check out my other Garden Findings. If you are particularly interested in my restoration garden works, you will find them here.
If you wish to nourish my garden, check out my nourish Pumpjack & Piddlewick page. Or consider browsing the garden themed items in My Vintage and Antiques Shop. Here’s a taste. You can click on an image to see more.
