Liz & Lizzette Plant Perkins St. Paradise

Homeowners trying to turn their expanses of traditional turf grass into gardens for vegetables or flowers might take some cues from Elizabeth (Liz) Johnston and Lizzette Flores of Perkins Street: Their small yard is full of flowers, vegetables, and fruit trees and vines, and is described by some friends as ​“Paradise.”

This wasn’t an overnight accomplishment. It was the product of more than 20 years of cultivation, a lot of hard work, and a little serendipity.

Johnston and Flores started dating in 1998 and bought the Perkins Street house together in 2000. Flores is originally from Puerto Rico; she moved to the mainland when she was 26. When the two women met, Flores lived in Westville, and Johnston had a house on Front Street in Fair Haven. Flores didn’t think she would want to live in Fair Haven, but they both fell in love with their 1935 bungalow on Perkins and the street on which it is located.

“We love our neighbors and our little one-way, one-block street,” Flores said. ​“I think Perkins is the best street in the city. Everybody knows everybody, there are lots of children, and people are always hanging out and chatting.”

The yard was not a paradise when they first saw it. Johnston remembers it having only grass, a hedge, yew trees, and a Japanese maple.

The two women began introducing new plants to the yard, experimenting, and ​“having fun.” They have been assisted along the way by Johnston’s mother, who is now 91.

The women were delighted to find that a single plant introduced into the space would return the following year in multiples. ​“We have magic soil,” Johnston said. They now estimate that three-quarters of the flowers are self-seeding, although they are always adding new types of plants. The emphasis this year has been on adding native plants that attract pollinators.

More magic can be seen along one edge of their property. A neighbor gave them a snip of a blackberry vine, which is now thickly covering one of their fences, abundant with many pounds of fruit ripening in the July sun.

The front lawn has long ago disappeared. The space is now filled with blooms throughout the growing season: portulaca, cone flowers, milkweed, butterfly weed, yarrow, lilies, bee balm, roses, and sunflowers, both traditional and Mexican. One corner of the front yard has yucca plants, a nod to the Southwest desert. Pollinators have found ready food sources in the yard, and dozens of bees can be seen at a time, along with butterflies, and other insects.

Johnston and Flores share their property with several other animals — some intentional, such as their three cats; and some who invited themselves, such as a mother skunk, whom they’ve named ​“Perkins,” and her baby. The baby recently trapped herself in the garage, to the odiferous dismay of everyone involved.

Johnston and Flores also like to add unusual objects, usually found at tag sales, that wouldn’t normally be seen in a garden: a grinding wheel to sharpen knives, a metal object that is possibly part of a furnace, and a kitchen sink (now growing sunflowers). Flores is especially proud of their hanging basket made from an industrial-sized colander, which they filled with amaranth because they liked the dangling blossoms.

Flores loves to create art and build things. Her creative impulse can be seen on the Bilco doors, onto which she has spray-painted her interpretation of a coqui, a small Puerto-Rican frog. The yard is filled with tables, bird houses, and other objects she has made. In the back yard the plants in the vegetable garden are growing in raised beds that Flores created from scraps left over from a porch renovation.

This compact vegetable garden space includes traditional fruits and vegetables such as tomatoes, eggplants, red and brown potatoes, basil, and watermelons. Flores’s Puerto Rican heritage can be seen in other garden choices including pigeon peas, cilantro, and cubanelle peppers; the latter two go into Flores’s homemade sofrito. Flores is also experimenting with trying to grow a lemon tree from a seed. (It will come inside during the winter.)

The lemon tree is a nod to Flores’s Puerto Rican heritage. Her mother and grandmother were enthusiastic gardeners and would have been proud to see the rich garden that has been created thousands of miles north in Connecticut. Johnston introduced another tree with southern roots to the yard, a magnolia, after seeing one on Clinton Avenue. Although not in its usual climate, the tree is thriving with fragrant white blooms the size of dinner plates.

Johnston also has a rich cultural heritage, being biracial with an African-American father and Caucasian mother from Britain. The family moved from Britain to the United States when she was a toddler; Johnston believes her tendency to plant harmonious color groupings is influenced by traditional English gardens. Sometimes it drives her crazy when flowers are placed near each other but don’t go together, and the women are constantly moving plants around. 

The harmony can also be seen in the way the two women, who were married in 2010, support each other. Johnston celebrates Flores’s Puerto Rican roots and secretly started to learn Spanish as a surprise. She sprang her new skill on Flores on a recent trip to the islands.

Both women had careers working with the state of Connecticut. Johnston retired several years ago, while Flores finished working just this summer. When asked if she planned to take on even more projects with her new free time, Flores mentioned a number of new endeavors that will delight Johnston, including a small pond and fountain in the back yard and another little free library box to join the one currently in their front yard. One of Johnston’s passions is books (“It’s not hoarding if you’re collecting books”), and the new box will be larger to accommodate more children’s books.

Mostly, Flores said, she will enjoy spending more time in the garden. She is always delighted when people stop to say how much they love the Perkins Street paradise. She has even given away flowers to people who have admired a certain blossom. ​“The garden,” she said, ​“is her therapy: Happy, happy. Joy, joy.”