Some years ago an auction of old garden ornament belonging to a well known Dutch antique dealer attracted my attention. Rob happened to be in Europe, shopping for the store in England; it was no problem for him to fly over to Amsterdam and preview the pieces. He fell for a giant 19th century French cast iron fountain and basin. The reserve price was steep, but the piece was compelling and gorgeous. As I could not afford much over the reserve price, I dared not hope. However, it took not three minutes for me to cast the successful bid by phone, and own it. This part was fast and easy; what proved to come was not.
The biggest headache? The basin was too large to sit flat on the floor of the container that would bring it to the US. So, some 6 weeks and plenty of money later, cast iron crates had been welded up for the basin, and fountain. The fountain centerpiece had rusted tight to the basin; it was after all, 130 years old. The centerpiece was painstakingly removed with the help of an acetelyene torch, and then welded to its custom made steel crate.
Transport from Holland to Paris was finally arranged; this was not an easy thing to move. Just insuring the move from Holland to France was a big deal. The fountain sat in a warehouse another 4 weeks, awaiting transport to the US. Only days before the arrival, I learned a boom crane would be necessary to get the fountain off the truck-we were dealing with many thousands of pounds of cast iron. I was trying to stave off that “what was I thinking” feeling; it was all mine now, right?
It was an operation the likes of which I have been involved in rarely; the entire day went to uncrating, and positioning that fountain. The crane people were incredibly professional and focused. At some point during the day I actually looked at what had been the center of so much commotion. It is one the most beautiful large scale fountains I had ever seen. The pattern of the cast iron leaves is as beautiful on the inside as they are on the outside-this a hallmark of very fine ironwork.
The torching and unbolted to free the pieces from their steel crates was slow and tedious.
What was I thinking, that I had to have this? I had scared myself, no doubt. But today I would say once in a while something comes along that makes you feel like speaking up. Who wants to spend time contemplating their lost opportunities?
Buck helped out getting the basin set perfectly level, as we knew there would be no moving it once it was placed-except to a new home. The boom crane held the fountain piece aloft until both pieces were perfectly aligned.�
A few days later, on a very foggy morning, it seemed to me that it had been well worth the time and trouble to acquire this fountain. It makes a big statement, where it sits, and it will make even a bigger statement the day it is placed in a garden.
In the meantime, it is my pleasure to look at it every day. In spite of everything it took to get it to me, I know when the day comes, it will be very tough to give it up. Funny, that.
For the better part of six years I did nothing to this yard except bark the existing perennial beds, and mow the grass. It took all my energy to handle my work-or so it seemed. I am embarrassed to say that somewhere along the line I got an anonymous postcard in the mail: “It is hard to believe that a person whose career is landscape would have weeds six feet tall in her front yard”. No matter the delivery, the person had a point.
But perhaps even more importantly, I was ignoring the fact that whatever I did at home would need time to come of age-and that perhaps I would want to still be around to see that. Planning my own landscape was agonizingly slow. I had no problem designing for others; I was a wreck designing for myself. Slow turned out to be fine; who can do everything at once anyway? Getting started-that was the key.
The one hundred Hicks yews across the west and down the north side came first. Given the slope of my property from the south to the north, time would prove to be an essential element. The hedge is 4 feet tall on the south side, and nine feet tall on the north side-but every one of them is level with the horizon. This hedge took eight years to grow in.
The boxwood was even slower growing; the 18″-24″ plants I put in the ground were already seven years old when I planted them. The shaggy densiformis yews are the newest evergreen addition; they have only been in four years. I like all this evergreen; I can successfully maintain it. I knew I could never devote the time needed to a big perennial garden-why come home and be frustrated about what isn’t done? Two giant blocks of Limelight hydrangeas, and 6 pots of flowers give me perennial garden pleasure, in a manageable form.
I planted this city-mini allee of Yellow Butterflies magnolias for Buck-he loves yellow. The boxwood is a big evergreen groundcover. The petals falling on this boxwood is one of my garden’s best spring moments. The mini-boxwood strips in the foreground-this year’s landscape project. The slope of the ground here made it difficult to mow the grass. The magnolias have grown considerably, and the shade they cast was not optimal for lawn. Wall stone behind them retains the soil, and in a few years, will be invisible.
The magnolias were planted to frame the view to the side yard. It is hard arrange a long view on a city lot, making visual use of the neighbor’s mature elm adds much to the illusion of distance.
The big Yew hedge divides my public landscape, from the house landscape. The big pots are centered in front of big panels of windows; I have good views from inside. The ground is carpeted with herniaria glabra-rupturewort. This plant grows like thyme, but is much more water tolerant.
My last visit to the landscape at the Cranbrook Academy of Art was to deliver the flowers and decoration for a wedding and reception there in August of 2007. I had for several years prior donated the summer planting around the Orpheus fountain; this was a job I loved doing. This area adjacent to the stairs had been dirt and more dirt for some years; my client and I split the cost of a planting of a group of Limelight hydrangeas. I am happy to see they seem to be doing fine. 
The Art Museum is under extensive renovation, so this year, the garden areas are sodded over. The fountain is closed. 
I try to tread lightly with the landscape where a sculpture is concerned. How easy it is to cross over the line trying to compliment a sculpture, and end up confusing the visual issues. Though I knew it would be closed, I was not prepared for how closed. But seeing it in its gardenless state, no water in the fountain, no sound and sparkle, had its good side. Its always a good idea to consider whether an area is all the better for your not touching it. The simple word for this is “editing”; some days I am better at this than others. Where flowers are concerned, I have a very tough time. 
Planting white flowers is a good way to proceed cautiously. Interestingly enough, I was told the traditonal summer planting here involved a short red salvia. I had no problem ditching the red flower thing, but I thought a tall planting would compliment the sculpture and water better. I mitigated the risk with the white palette.
Another year I added an upright white datura, and white sonata cosmos to the mix. The white petunias did a better job of softening the lawn line.
Yet another year, I added some verbena bonariensis, some nicotiana langsdorfii, and some grey cirrus dusty miller to the predominantly white mix. I do so like the cloud effect of the verbena flowers. 
White gardens are however, unforgiving of a lack of maintenance. Dead white flower heads do have a distinctively brown-dead appearance. For this reason, I rarely plant white geraniums unless I am sure there is a maintenance fanatic waiting in the wings-and even then, a heavy rain will spoil the blooms in such a dramatic way. I knew the planting would not be the end of my involvement here.
Plants grow in, and the room can get crowded. If the giant leaves of this nicotiana are allowed to shade the petunia, said petunia will pout, and finally give up. Removing leaves, or branches so everyone has a sunny spot, is good group management. A pot or window box is no place for a bully running amok. No one will like the result- least of all, you.
Try not to overwater. Put your finger down into the dirt. If the dirt sticks to you, there is probably enough moisture. Rotting leaves are unsightly. Worse yet, an environment that is too wet is an invitation to every fungus floating by, looking for a good home. Licorice likes dry conditions. Should you have been so bold to plant it next to an annual that loves water and more water, you’ve engineered a situation where individual plants in a community pot have to be watered on different schedules. This is not tough, just time-consuming.
Annuals need pruning, just like shrubs and trees. Pruning the flowers from your coleus plants result in densely growing coleus. Pruning plants at different heights gives everyone breathing room. Once a group of plants are put together in one pot, or one area, they take on a collective life. Sun, water and space have to be shared. And whatever the individual plants, you want an overall shape that looks great. 
My beloved boxwood hedge was attacked this spring by a fungus called Volutella-I was beside myself over the damage. I had to get an expert to identify it for me; I have never seen this on boxwood before. We cleaned out, and raked up every dead leaf, and pruned out every infected branch with shears that were disinfected after each cut. Next spring I will spray for it. Imagine being a greenhouse grower-where plant illnesses and insects can threaten a livlihood. Most growers that I know practice close inspection of their plants, so they catch problems early. They also feed their plants; strong plants resist trouble. Once every seven to ten days I make sure my pots are thoroughly watered, then I liquid- feed them with a water soluble fertilizer with a big middle number (15-30-15) to encourage good flower production. This acts like a shot of vitamin B-12. Then I hold off watering as long as I can, so the plants take up the nutrients, before they get flushed out by the next round of watering.