How to Avoid Getting Fenced in by a Zoning Ordinance

My front lawn is my own canvas, changing with the seasons, noticed or not, by passersby. Creating a garden that oozes self-expression takes time, and over the years, I’ve been influenced by gardens with unique sensibilities. There’s one on Prospect Avenue in Maplewood that includes the traditional symbol of "home sweet home" with a picket fence and cascades of roses, while the front is planted with a dazzling array of perennials and bulbs. There always seems to be something exciting happening in this garden, all year long. It’s about as firmly planted in my head as the implacable dandelions on the berm along my sidewalk.

My husband is able to build things, and with the right amount of prodding and the added incentive of my birthday around the corner last spring, he set about designing a decorative fence that would catch the corners of the front walk with just enough distance from the sidewalk for me to edge in other plantings. Now, when I envisioned people hurrying to the train station, they’d catch sight of the roses and take a moment to smell them.

He dug a couple of deep holes, poured in some cement, and the first post went in topped with a dashing finial, and then the second. As he unloaded more wood into the driveway, a neighbor mentioned that there was a zoning ordinance against fences, and that we should check with the town engineer before proceeding. My husband visited Village Hall, with his drawings in hand, and was informed that fences were not allowed, as per Ordinance 92-200. Surely a small decorative fence that would add to the beauty of the house, let alone the block (ahhh, roses!), wouldn’t be a problem, I thought.

According to Village Trustee Howard Levison, “The Village’s intent is to create a sense of openness.”

We weren’t talking about putting up a 10-foot chain link monstrosity or creating a fortress of bright red motel-ready cedar. At first, we were going to take the matter to the Board of Adjustment but were told of the fees for petitioning for a variance. If turned down, our only recourse would be to file an appeal in court, which meant even more legal fees. Most dispiritingly, we heard that few variances get approved.

What to do with asymmetrical posts on the front lawn? What to do with the dream of roses deferred? We stewed for a month or two, feeling like characters in that old Cary Grant and Myrna Loy movie, “Mr. Blandings Builds His Dream House," where one disaster after another befalls city slickers completely out of their element. As last summer came to an end, I took a trip to the Great Swamp Greenhouse and saw a couple of deeply discounted sad-looking climbers—a honeysuckle and a clematis. What did I have to lose but a few bucks? I put them in the ground around the posts when I got home. My husband, optimistically, built a small support trellis next to the post hosting the clematis.

Fast forward to this spring and the honeysuckle—which turns out to have fire orange blossoms—is going wild around one of the posts, and the clematis, perhaps more temperamental, is sending out one vine and just burst into flower: a six-petalled purple velvet wonder. I added a climbing rose bush to the front of the honeysuckle, and with time, by next year, it should be shooting out some blooms—maybe not the horizontal blanket I had dreamed of, but a spiral staircase of what after all, will be a rose (is a rose is a rose). And as a final note of self-expression, my husband recently carved an address plaque, which sits happily at the top of the fence post.