When Tim Busch decided to trim some hedges one recent evening, he attracted more attention than usual for his daily garden chores.
Walkers slowed down to take photos and ask questions. Neighbors stepped on piles of leaves to thank him. One driver honked his horn and gave a thumbs up.
Mr. Bush is used to attention. This happens every time he gives his two huge, hairy elephants a haircut. They are just one of a series of hedges on a residential street that Mr Busch has transformed from overgrown vegetation into whimsical creations.
His hedge menagerie includes two cats, a squirrel, a hippopotamus and a fish. There was also a reclining naked woman in the experiment. He hopes a giant rabbit will join them this summer.
Over the years, his hedges have delighted residents and baffled others who stumbled across them. They even collect reviews of local landmarks on Google Maps, ranging from the serious (“Well maintained”) to the enthusiastic (“My life is now complete after seeing this beautiful hedge.”).
Mr Busch, 70, an art college graduate and architect, built many things during his long career, from schools and shops to homes and offices. But the most intriguing may be his playful hedges scattered across north London.
“I realized how much joy they gave me,” said Mr. Bush, who donates his hedge-cutting earnings to environmental causes. “They enhance the urban streetscape in a very positive way.”
“Why not do something fun?”
Hedgerows have a long history in Britain, being used to enclose land as early as the Bronze Age, and exploded in popularity during the Agricultural Revolution of the 18th century. The idea behind these hedges also has deep roots: the world’s oldest topiary garden was established in 1694 at Levens Hall, an estate about five hours north of London.
Guy Barter, chief horticulturist at the Royal Horticultural Society, said: “Hedgerows provide much-needed shelter to buildings, people, farms and livestock.” He added that hedgerows thrive in the British climate.
Mr Butt said that in modern times, manicured garden hedges had come to symbolize a certain aspiration: a serious homeowner who took his neighborhood duties seriously. However, poor hedging was considered enough to trigger legal disputes.
But bolder hedges are also starting to gain traction, Butt said. “Hedges are very ornate and an easily observed way of showing off,” he said.
“It’s a bit like you have a white picket fence with something curling in the middle,” said Tim Alden, a friend of Mr Bush’s who was inspired to trim his own hedges in east London. Prune it back into a green plant.
He said the dog-shaped hedge had a surprisingly eerie feel that seemed to spark joy in his mailbox. “Why not do something fun every once in a while?” he said, “for no other reason than to make us smile?”
Mr Bush is picky about his commissions, only accepting schemes close to his home in north London. “I love having a group of people like that where I am,” he said. (Yes, he knew his name was a perfect fit for the job. “Maybe this is my destiny,” he said.)
Mr Busch said it all started about 15 years ago with an overgrown hedge in his own front yard. His late wife Philippa asked him if he could carve a cat for her. “I think cats can be cunning,” he said.
Instead, as he cut into the hedge, another shape came to mind: a train. He then tried carving the head of a lizard-like monster. Neighbors also began asking him to transform their hedges into various shapes, including a giant set that he thought would make the perfect elephant.
“This is where it really snowballs,” he said. His wife ended up taking her cat to a hedge across the road.
But the journey from flora to artificial fauna requires patience, persistence and plenty of time. Mr Busch starts with preliminary pruning to give the hedge its shape. Then it must grow. It can take three or more years for a pruned hedge to take its final shape.
“For example, I might eventually grow one ear but have to wait years for the other ear to grow,” he said.
The process of bringing his designs to life is more like sculpture than gardening. “I can picture the whole thing in my head,” he said. “It’s just a matter of finding it.”
Hedge turns into edge
Unlike marble, common privet hedges quickly lose their shape: they need to be pruned several times a year to maintain their shape. “When people grow hair, they get very upset,” Mr. Bush said.
But, he adds, they are harder to maintain as you age. Nature will be the final judge of how long these green plants survive. Two early elephants were lost to honey fungus and the dog fence is going bald thanks to some hungry vine weevils. “I live in fear that they are going to be attacked,” Mr. Bush said.
On a recent evening, Mr. Bush recruited his dogs Spike and Mr. Alden to transform the animal, which looks more like a mammoth than an elephant. They took electric trimmers and started pruning, leaving piles of leaves on the ground. The legs, ears and torso are clearly visible.
Simon Massey was one of the neighbors who came to express his gratitude. “It’s really a wonderful piece of art,” he said, adding that he saw all kinds of people coming nearby to visit and photograph the creatures.
Abdihid Aubusier, a science teacher, had passed Mr Alden’s dog-shaped hedge several times before he noticed it had been listed as a tourist attraction online. He also added his own tongue-in-cheek comment, calling it an “inspired piece.”
Mr. Aubusier said he appreciated the effort that went into the carving. But he also sees the funny side of the ordinary becoming alluring. “Some people wonder, why did the hedge become a tourist attraction?” Mr Aubusier said. “Why not? Who made the rules?
