Every plant in Setsuyo Mulcahey's garden is vigorous, and each plays its part in the consummate garden picture she has created over 27 years. Rhododendron 'Pink Sherbet,' a Yak hybrid, is in the foreground beneath the red Japanese maple.

It is hard to believe this diminutive woman has created such an extensive garden. Every plant is carefully chosen, ideally placed and bursting with health. There is no jostling or crowding. Each appears plumply satisfied to play its own unique part in the overall garden picture Mulcahey has composed with such consummate skill. But you won't learn the secrets of all this garden harmony from Mulcahey; she is modest about her accomplishment, despite her obvious and tender love for each and every plant. A big old Rottweiler strolls the garden paths and plump koi laze in the pond while Mulcahey casually points out one treasure after another. Stone steps and gravel paths wind past beds of foliage and flower, skirt a lawn as smooth and unblemished as a golf course, and finally lead down to bridges, pond and a bench nestled among the filigreed foliage of red and green Japanese maples.

Mulcahey has worked on this garden for 27 years. "My sons help me," she says. "I have good sons." The sons built the waterfall, pond and pergola, which drips thickly with fragrant purple wisteria. Every time her husband goes fishing or hunting at their Humptulips acreage he brings back something for the garden, and there are impressive stones and rock gardens throughout. These little outcroppings of rock follow the hillside's natural contours, and are composed of half compost and half sand with crushed gravel on top. She grows exquisite little lewisia in one of the rock gardens sited partly beneath the overhang of the deck to shelter the fussy little plants from winter rains.

Mulcahey's Japanese heritage shows in this vignette of stone lantern and peony. Paeonia suffruiticosa 'Renkaku' has large, pure white, semi-double flowers with yellow stamen; its Japanese name means 'Flight of Cranes.'
Mulcahey's Puyallup garden is as richly planted at ground level as it is overhead. She grows Lewisia cotyledon along with other delicate miniatures in rock gardens that follow the contours of the sloping garden.

Such garden beauty begins with choice plants, and Mulcahey is very particular, picking out each one herself. "I go to nurseries all over, even to Oregon," she says. She travels to American Rhododendron Society meetings, and returned to Japan last fall for a family reunion, no doubt shopping all the while. She started out growing rhododendrons because they are pretty even in winter. Huge Loderis with luminous flowers the size of dinner plates are underplanted with compact yakushimanum hybrids to fill or outline most of the generously sized beds. She is particularly fond of the giant old R. Loderi 'King George' with fragrant pink flowers, and of the yellow 'Nancy Evans,' named for Gov. Dan Evans' wife.

How does she keep each plant so healthy? It is impossible to find a single notched leaf, brown blossom or even a stem crushed by the Rottweiler's hefty paw. Mulcahey deadheads every rhododendron as soon as it finishes blooming. I'm comforted to know her sons help with this task. If she sees any mildew she sprays with a fungicide (use only if and when needed, she cautions), and applies a balanced 16-16-16 fertilizer once in February. She never fertilizes after bloom, because it promotes tender new growth sought by aphids and other insects. She does two major prunings a year, in early spring and again in late autumn after the leaves fall. Plants are kept manicured throughout the season, since Mulcahey takes her clippers with her whenever she strolls the garden. She carefully picks the old bloom off dozens of lewisia, encouraging them to bloom again. Every inch of the garden is as detailed as a teenage boy's first Camaro.

While the glorious flowers draw your eye, just as much care has been taken with leaf form and fragrance. Daphnes and the miniature lilac 'Miss Kim' perfume the garden. Tree peonies and Japanese maples have been chosen for their exotic splay and flutters of foliage, and for the brilliance of fall color. It is a garden of overstory trees as well as diminutive wonders. Rows of pots and the outcroppings of rock garden hold choice little bloomers, while overhead Magnolia chinensis has been pruned so that passers-by can look up into its white flowers with burgundy stamen. Cornus florida 'Eddie's White Wonder' sports creamy blossoms as large as saucers.

While much of the success of Mulcahey's garden comes from her discerning eye, tender care and abundance of hard work, she has spent many long hours studying plants. Mulcahey had a tiny garden in Japan, and says she knew nothing about plants when she came to the United States nearly 30 years ago. She has learned by visiting other people's gardens and joining the Rhododendron Society, as well as participating in a study unit of the Washington Park Arboretum. More recently, she's become involved with the Northwestern Chapter of the North American Rock Garden Society, learning from people with similar interests. Her gardening in turn inspires others, for it was after her garden was open for one of the society's tours last spring that I received a call from an old friend who is herself an expert gardener. "One of the gardens blew me away," she said, "and I don't blow easily." She was, of course, talking about Setsuyo Mulcahey's back garden.

Lewisia tweedyi is a native alpine flower, especially beautiful when raised up in a pot to show off its exquisite flowers.

Looking more like a rumpled party dress than a flower, this Japanese peony is called 'Companion of Serenity.'

A saucer magnolia (M. x soulangeana 'Alexandrina') presides over a bed of rhododendrons cascading down the east-facing slope of Mulcahey's back garden. The whites and pinks here are all Yakushimanum hybrids chosen for their compact shape, large flowers and fuzzy cinnamon-brown indumentum on their leaves.

Each chosen for leaf form and fall color, 38 different kinds of Japanese maple add grace and elegance to the garden. The gravel path that winds through the garden ends at this bench beneath the maples, a contemplative spot to rest and look out over the pond.

Valerie Easton is manager at the Miller Horticultural Library. Her e-mail address is vjeaston@aol.com. Barry Wong is a Pacific Northwest magazine staff photographer.