John and Bonny Bowens have transformed tragedy into blooming beauty

Six miles down a meandering road south of Highway 34 in Shedd, color bursts from behind browning grass fields beckoning passersby to slow and take a closer look.

Often mistaken for a public park, Holstein House Gardens radiates with rose bushes, perennial flowers, vine-covered arbors and plants tumbling over walkways.

Visitors are greeted by Paddy and Buttons, who leap and tumble among the bushes and flowers. The Scottish terrier and West Highland white terrier are at home in the gardens, moving leaves and splashing in streams.

The welcome committee is followed by John and Bonny Bowens, owners of 20 acres that hold the 2-acre gardens. Bonny is the gardener and John the self-appointed maintenance man and head of irrigation.

The gardens encircle the couple’s ranch house, crafted in 1900 by Herman Holstein. Fancy knee braces are a giveaway to the simple German architecture. The classic big red barn was erected in 1904. Both sit under four old-growth fir trees original from the house.

The ranch has been John’s family home since 1949. He and Bonny were married in 1975 and living in their Albany home when John’s parents became ill. He moved his new bride into his childhood home and the thought of leaving has never crossed their minds.

The couple raised three children in the small house and had horses in the pastures.

A skiing accident in 1992 forced Bonny to retire from the department of corrections in Salem, and horses. Gardening filled the void and the horse pasture became gardens. In 1993, the couple lost a son in an automobile accident.

Working through her loss, Bonny turned to gardening and it became a passion. Her son, only 16 when he died, had been knowledgeable about trees and gardening. His garden shed sits in the English cottage garden dedicated to him.

“Gardening was good therapy,” Bonny said.

Her passion has become a full-time hobby. Along the way she obtained status as an OSU Linn County Master Gardener and her highly acclaimed gardens have blossomed into a sought-after wedding site.

John, who later retired from the Halsey lumber mill, gladly leaves the digging and pruning to her, and prefers to be in charge of machinery.

Visitors and friends are welcome to experience the gardens. People stop in often asking if they can take a peak. A cyclist was once invited not only to look about but to pitch a tent and stay overnight.

Water elements soften the sounds of birds chirping as they flit from tree to tree. Three ponds and a traveling stream provide photo opportunities and background to secluded garden seating. Live fish and plants keep mosquitoes at bay and filter the water.

A wave hedge encompasses the gardens and is a visitor favorite. Trimmed to keep its shape, Bonny calls it the necklace around the garden. A more recent endeavor is an English knot garden. Made of low, clipped boxwoods, the bow shape should reach maturity in about three years.

The many nooks and hideaways are personal creations. An old sandbox roof was moved near the pond and enclosed with greenery. A bench forged in the barn sits inside a half-shell arbor covered in vines. Logs are turned into benches and stumps provide riverfront seats.

And what garden is complete without herbs and roses? Bonny tends to those. A bit of whimsical is placed throughout.

A heart-shaped hedge swells into an open space. Tiny garden faces peer out of unlikely crevices. Rock critters line the moss-covered pavers and step stones. Turtles, an eagle, puppies and ducks are created out of rocks collected during camping trips. Bonny’s sister is credited with the idea.

People often ask Bonny how she lives with the deer. “I plant enough for all of us,” she said.

Little Muddy Creek flows along the property. Leading down to the water is an area Bonny established as a stream side garden. Left mostly to nature, the riverbanks are home to the rare Willamette Valley aster and visited frequently by wildlife.

An old wagon road leaves a path to the river and private cove. During the winter this area is underwater. Bonny said spring is always an adventure as the water makes changes.

“That’s when John becomes a lumberjack,” she said.

One year, flooding damaged part of the riverbank. A few calls and a lot of luck made the farm recipient to bricks from the dismantled fire station in Corvallis. They were used to not only fill in the area, but became a fire pit. This area is now a favorite among revelers at evening weddings.

Gardening comes to a standstill when weather reclaims the outdoors. During the winter months, Bonny trades her dirt for metal and trowel for torch to teach garden art welding classes. The artworks are sprinkled in the gardens in the shapes of trellises, benches and decorative pieces.

Welding is a passion of John’s. He has done arbors and benches for outside gardens, including the reflection pool at Oakville Presbyterian Church. Looking to this winter, his mind is busy planning a version of Froggy Goes a Courtin,’ complete with sword, pistol and gallant hat.

With each new year comes a challenge and change. Bonny cuts back in one area to make room for something new, and in another she may let things grow to see what will become of nature. Seeds are shipped from England and Bonny propagates plants in her greenhouse.

One of the many hand-painted signs in the garden reads: “May the strong survive.” In the beginning, Bonny tried to make every plant thrive. “Now,” she said, “if they are fussy, out they go.”

John teases Bonny that her efforts are never ending. She retorts with a quote from English writer and author H. E. Bates: “The garden that is finished is dead.”

What isn’t gardened by Bonny on the 20 acres is leased out to grass seed farmers and established as a wildlife habitat.

Since moving back into the house, John has done plenty of upgrading and remodeling. In the ’70s, trips to the attic to install electricity revealed historic books, photos and furniture. Upgrades to the kitchen brought it back to original wood cabinetry and converted a dumbwaiter, used to bring wood from the basement to fuel the stove, to a pantry. Many additional changes have been made to make the house livable by today’s standards.

“Back then all we did was sleep in here,” John said. “We’d get up in the morning and be out all day. Maybe read the paper and go to bed.”

It’s not the house that makes the Bowens’ home. They may be retired but neither one is content to sit indoors. Outdoors is where they are at home working together to create beauty.