There is a van in John Little’s garden. That information may not seem so surprising perhaps, until you learn that the van in question isn’t simply parked. It is semi-submerged, with greenery growing over, under and through it. This rusty blue ex-vehicle is a perfect, provocative indicator that things are done differently here.
Hilldrop, in south Essex, has been John’s home for more than 30 years. During that time he has established a pioneering green roof construction business (the Grass Roof Company) while transforming his four-acre site into a living laboratory in which to develop ideas about what a good garden should look like.
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He is a sharp-dressing, smooth-talking advocate for a whole new ecological approach and, since his daughter first persuaded him to start posting video clips about his ethos on social media just five years ago, that message has spread far and been enthusiastically adopted by many who now see his garden as a mecca for aesthetic environmentalism.
While few people have the opportunity or the inclination to bury an old Citroën in their garden, there are many who would love to recreate a slice of Hilldrop, with its sculptural solitary-bee posts, gabion walls, standing deadwood and perfectly circular piles of aggregate.
In the summer, when John runs an intensive programme of study days and workshops – many of them free to professional gardeners – these sculptural elements are subsumed in a froth of predominantly native planting. But visit John’s garden on a frosty winter’s morning, with the unglancing low over the countryside, and the appeal of this style of habitat structure is gloriously evident.
While few have the inclination to bury an old Citroën in their garden, many would love to recreate a slice of Hilldrop
“It’s now generally recognised that the sort of bad sheds you get on allotments are amazing habitat hot spots because they are open, porous, complicated structures. My approach is to take that ‘bad shed’ concept and make it into a beautiful thing,” says John.
Viewed from the deck of his house, at the top of the gently sloping garden, this ‘bad shed’ concept is manifested in the deadwood trunk he has fixed on end next to a dry-stone wall exquisitely constructed from old rubble.
It is present in the silhouette of a vast willow that he has chopped and drilled into, in a process officially known as veteranising, which has turned the old tree into a piece of living sculpture, colonised by woodpeckers, owls and a massive diversity of invertebrates.
The sort of bad sheds you get on allotments are amazing habitat hot spots because they are open, porous, complicated structures.
And it continues with the series of drilled solitary bee posts, some in weathered timber, others in brightly powder-coated steel, which form crisp markers through the desiccated swathes of stems and seedheads that fill much of the garden. “The cool thing about these structures is that you can get them to be part of the functional organisation of the site.”
Top of John’s list of functional features that everyone should have is a compost bin. “Whenever groups of design students visit me, I tell them to put compost bins front and centre in every garden they create – and to make sure they are very beautiful,” he says.
He has perfected an inexpensive design using sheets of metal mesh. “I use Weldmesh, a simple everyday material that you can easily clip into a circle, and has significant intrinsic strength. You could even pay a little more to have it made out of stainless steel or finished in a bright colour. The mesh sides are great for invertebrates to burrow into, the structure will last forever, and it is easy to fork the composted material out with a four-pronged hayfork when you want to use it.”
John also makes circular planters out of perforated steel, which he fills with sand. “We use Thanet sand from down the road, but if you don’t have a local option you could go to a builder’s merchant and get brick-laying sand or sharp sand, which is coarser. Different types of bee will prefer nesting in one or the other. It is all about increasing the diversity of options.”
He is now experimenting with planters made out of dumpy sacks hidden inside outer ‘walls’ of metal mesh backfilled with rubble, for stability, visual interest and increased habitat opportunities. “The key is to make sure the base is in contact with the soil so that you get transfer of soil mycorrhiza, and groundwater can wick up into it.”
Gabions are another key design element within the garden. John has used them to retain the banks of his large pond, with the liner running up behind them so that amphibious creatures, including grass snakes and newts, can take shelter in their rubble-filled interiors.
The wildlife doesn’t care what it looks like, but it is your garden as well, and you definitely should care
Elsewhere, he has positioned low gabion walls to form linear elements that help to visually define different zones. “But no gabion benches. If you attach a seat directly to the structure it always ends up wonky, and that offends my sensibilities,” says John.
He is, however, quite happy for his fences to be multi-functional. “You can swap one or two of the standard fence panels for habitat panels, with lots of voids and spaces. And I always encourage people to make a couple of the supporting uprights into bee posts, by drilling them with a decorative pattern of holes at a variety of depths. They can be as smart as you like – have them beautifully crafted out of oak or cedar if that suits your aesthetic. The wildlife does not care what it looks like, but it is your garden as well, and you definitely should care.”
In a world where environmentalism is often perceived as rather scruffy, this is perhaps his most powerful message. “This can all look fantastic. My friend, the entomologist Benny Hawksbee, threads dead leaves onto wires then hangs them from the trees like art installations that just so happen to be brilliant for invertebrates as well.
And this winter I am experimenting with cob columns, which I am really excited about. Rammed earth structures look amazing, and the one bit of test cob wall we have already made was colonised by 12 new types of bee and wasp almost as soon as it was finished,” says John.
“If we don’t make more habitats then a lot of our wildlife is done for. Complicated places are one answer to climate change and will help us hold on to our native flora and fauna by broadening the range of conditions we can offer them. You can be woolly in the garden as long as you put a frame around it.”
If pushed, he will admit to preferring his garden in summer, when it audibly vibrates with life. “But winter is the time to do the exciting stuff, which makes that possible. My summer garden is the recognition for the work we are doing right now.”
Useful information
Find out more about John Little’s work at grassroofcompany.co.uk
Photographs: Alister Thorpe
