Garden names are trendy, but it’s not going to be Erinwood

On a whirlwind tour of 14 Philadelphia-area gardens over a few days last summer, I took note that every private garden I saw had two things in common — a great display of horticulture and a name. Gardens were not known by their owners, but by a name bequeathed to them by a resident — perhaps caretaker is the better term — somewhere along the line.

I didn’t get the story behind each of the names, but they added to the feel of great home gardens. Owl Creek Farm was no longer a farm, but the name paid homage to its heritage. Belvidere, Hedgleigh Springs, WynEden, Patterns and Edgewood were more difficult to figure out. Others, like author David Culp’s Brandywine Cottage, are so well known it would feel odd to call them by their owner’s name instead.

The custom of naming properties goes back centuries. It’s far more common in the United Kingdom but has made its way to the United States, particularly extending inward from the East Coast. And the practice seems to be gaining popularity throughout the country, perhaps for good reason. A survey in the UK showed that 1 in 14 people said they’d pay more for a house with a name.

OK, it’s not the most persuasive statistic, but you can’t deny how neatly a name can sum up a garden. For one thing, gardens often transcend their owners, so it seems strange for it to be known as “Jane’s Garden.” In my case, such a name would undermine the contribution of my gardening partner. Mr. Much More Patient doesn’t weed, design or plant, but he follows me around cleaning up after me and digs large holes, which counts for a large amount of caretaker cred.

A name also makes a garden feel much more intentional and, dare I say it, important. It’s like saying you are visiting Graceland instead of Elvis Presley’s house.

I think it takes a certain amount of chutzpah — the kind that tends to make humble Midwesterners uneasy — to name your property, but once you get over the hangup, what’s to lose?

A New York Times story about the growing practice of naming properties suggested that puns, inside jokes, foreign phrases and a property’s location can all be inspiration for a name. One property featured in the story was called Thistledown, which is an incredibly romantic name that instantly brings to mind thousands of seeds of invasive species gently nestling in my flower beds.

Another owner, a landscape architect name Craig, named his property Craigmoor. Talk about the antithesis of the humble Midwesterner.

I frequently toy with giving our garden a name, but the pressure of coming up with something suitable, interesting and clever stymies the effort every time. Once you put it on a sign — and have you even named your garden if you don’t get a sign proclaiming it? — it’s hard to change it.

But there’s one name I can say for certain I would never bestow on it — Erinwood.