When Tim Bushe decided to trim some hedges one recent evening, he attracted more attention than usual for his routine garden chores.
Pedestrians slowed to take photos and ask questions. Neighbors stepped over piles of clipped leaves to thank him. A driver honked and gave him a thumbs up.
Mr. Bushe is used to the attention. It comes every time he gives his two giant, hairy elephants a haircut. They are just one of many residential street fences that Mr. Bushe has transformed from overgrown plants into whimsical creations.
His fenced-in zoo includes two cats, a squirrel, a hippopotamus and a fish. There’s also a naked woman lying around. He hopes a giant rabbit will join them this summer.
His fences have delighted residents and surprised others who have happened to pass by them over the years. They have even been designated a local landmark on the Google mapfrom the straightforward (“Well maintained”) to the flowery (“My life is complete now after seeing this beautiful fence.”).
Mr Bushe, 70, an art school graduate and architect, has built many things over his long career, from schools and shops to homes and offices. But it is perhaps his playful hedges, dotted across north London, that are most intriguing.
“I realized how much joy they bring,” said Mr. Bushe, who donates his hedge-cutting money to environmental causes. “They enhance the urban streetscape in a very positive way.”
‘Why not do something more fun?’
Hedges have a long history in England, used to surround land. since the Bronze Age and skyrocketed in popularity in an agricultural revolution in the 18th century. And the idea of shaping those fences also has deep roots: bonsai gardenFounded in 1694, it is located at Levens Hall, a manor house about five hours drive north of London.
“Hedges provide much-needed shelter for buildings, people, farms and livestock,” said Guy Barter, chief gardener at the Royal Horticultural Society, adding that they thrive in the British climate.
In recent times, Mr. Barter said, a well-trimmed hedge has come to symbolize a certain kind of aspiration: a homeowner who takes his or her responsibilities to the neighborhood seriously. But a bad hedge has become considered bad enough to promote legal disputes.
But wilder fences are also popular, says Barter. “Fence is colorful and a visible way to express who you are,” he says.
“It’s like having a white picket fence and something curved in the middle,” said Tim Alden, a friend of Mr Bushe’s who was inspired by his own hedge trimming in east London. a dog’s pruned bonsai.
There’s something about the surprisingly quirky nature of the dog fence, he says, that seems to inspire the cheerful notes in his mailbox. “Why not do something playful every now and then,” he says, “for no other reason than to make us smile?”
Mr Bushe is very selective about his commissions, only taking on projects close to his home in north London. “I quite like the idea of having a collection of projects like this around where I live,” he says. (And yes, he knows his name is more appropriate for this type of work. “Maybe it’s my destiny,” he says.)
It all started about 15 years ago, with a bushy hedge in his front yard, Bushe said. His late wife, Philippa, asked if he could carve a cat for her. “I thought a cat might be a difficult thing,” he said.
Instead, another shape came to mind as he cut into the fence: a train. Then he tried his hand at carving the head of a lizard-like monster. Neighbors began asking him to turn their fences into shapes, including a giant set that he thought would make perfect elephants.
“That’s really where it snowballed,” he said. Eventually, his wife moved her cat into a fence across the street.
But the journey from plant to faux animal requires patience, persistence and time. Mr Bushe starts with initial cuts to shape the hedge. Then the hedge must grow. It can take three years or more before a trimmed hedge takes its final shape.
“For example, I could have only one ear left and have to wait years for the other ear to grow,” he said.
Bringing his designs to life is a process more like sculpture than gardening. “I can visualize it in my head, the whole thing,” he says. “It’s just a matter of finding it.”
Protect your pets
Unlike marble, a regular honeysuckle hedge will quickly outgrow its shape: It needs pruning several times a year to maintain its shape. “People get very frustrated when it gets hairy,” says Bushe.
But, he adds, they become harder to maintain as he gets older. Nature will be the final arbiter of how long these bonsais will survive. Two elephants have previously died from honey fungus, and the dog fence is going bald because of some hungry beetles. “I live in terror that they will be attacked,” Mr Bushe says.
On a recent evening, Mr. Bushe enlisted Spike, his dog, and Alden to transform what was beginning to look more like a mammoth than an elephant. They held electric mowers in their hands, trimming away the piles of leaves that covered the ground. Sharp legs, ears, and a trunk were visible.
Simon Massey was among the neighbors who came to express their gratitude. “It’s just an amazing piece of art,” he said, adding that he has seen all sorts of people come into the neighborhood to visit and take photos of the creatures.
Abdirashid Obsiye, a science teacher, had walked past Mr Alden’s dog-shaped fence several times before realising it was listed as a tourist attraction online. He added his own witty review, calling it “an inspiring piece of work”.
Mr. Obsiye said he appreciated the effort that went into the sculpture. But he also found the humorous side of the banality appealing. “Some people wonder, why is the fence a tourist attraction?” Mr. Obsiye said. “Why not? Who makes the rules?”
