I have been a supporter of the Cranbrook Academy of Art for some years. They produce several events a year to raise money to support their programs. It is a unique institution among graduate art schools in the US, and a considerable asset to our community. I like being involved. We planted the annual garden surrounding the Orpheus fountain in May, in anticipation of their event to come in July. I took my cue for design and decor from the title of the event.
A large tent would be a temporary home to a collection of art destined for auction that evening. Each work was donated by a previous graduate of the academy; this part of the event generated considerable interest and participation. Tables reserved for groups representing the major benefactors for this event were placed in the fountain garden.
The remnants of puddles you see on the ground in the above picture bring back memories for me; it rained fiercely the afternoon of the event. What I had thought I would have the entire day to accomplish would have to be done in less time. The threat of bad weather makes any garden party all the more exciting to plan and produce-in this case, it was more excitement than I really wanted.
A cocktail reception would be held in a grassy area immediately adjacent to the showpiece of the Cranbrook landscape-the Triton pools. We fashioned simple tents for the hordoerves tables from double layers of white fabric attached to bamboo poles. Steel shoes for the poles were sunk in the ground at an outward angle, stretching the fabric tight and smooth. Nature had another idea in store; the intense downpour changed that flat profile to a graceful swoop. This unexpected contribution from the sky was a good one; I liked the swooping fabric against the curving path. We had painted a rambling path for guests arriving at the Lone Pine entrance to the garden to the reception area, with athletic paint.
The big gesture? I had the idea to affix paper lanterns to slender steel rods anchored with bricks which would sit on the on the pool bottom. Advance measurements of the water depth enabled us to create the impression that the lanterns were floating on the surface of the water. What fun it was to get in these fountains; I never expected this opportunity to come along. A crew of four of us spent the better part of the afternoon wading in the water.
We set up hundred of lanterns of different diameters. Each steel rod had a platform at the top holding a votive candle. As we set the lanterns, we lit the votives rated to burn for ten hours, and hoped no more rain or wind would come our way. I was equally concerned that no water from the pools wick its way onto the paper. I was interested in creating a little moonlight magic, not a wet paper mess.
It seemed the rain had cleared off, and we did finish with an hour to spare before guests were due to arrive. The reception would begin at the very far end of the pools, and guests would wind their way uphill.
I was happy to have finished my part as the catering staff was setting up. I was on my way home to get dressed; I did not want to miss how all of this would look at night.
Attending an event gives you the chance to experience it as other people do. There is plenty to be learned from this-what proves awkward, what is not visually strong enough when a space is full of people, what proves to be good that you never gave a moment’s thought to. Any party in a garden will surprise you.
I made it back just in time to see the garden begin to fill with people. Little did I realize what the night would add to this party-more on that tomorrow.
The upper peninsula of Michigan, and the Sault in particular, is home to a substantial population of American bald eagles. They are proud of the fact that the eagle which symbolizes our entire nation thrives here, as well they should be. The bald eagle is as much a local treasure, as it is a national one. As any fountain placed on City property would be subject of discussion, design and review by committee, it seemed those firecely wild and independent birds would make a fitting subject for a sculpture, and appeal to a broad audience. We chose a subject matter we knew would strike a chord with a number of people. Given some drawings and dimensions of this object, a CAD drawing was produced enabling the project to be quoted. Nothing with cities proceeds quickly, but it does proceed; we were cleared to build.
This fourteen foot tall steel sculpture interpretive of a tree would cover a plumbing system designed to propel water out the topmost branch. Attached to that tree would be a network of steel twigs representing an eagle aerie. The galvanizing tank in which we hot dip galvanize all of our steel is only 5.5 feet wide; one branch of the tree would have to be mechanically installed after the contruction process was complete. The fountain was designed in the round for viewing, not designed to fit a tank. 
Life-size bald eagles hand sculpted from a steel rod and mesh galvanized armature, and acid stained mortar, would be attached to the sculpture via steel sleeves made to match the size and angle of the legs. 
Buck followed this semitruck on whose whose flatbed that sculpture was securely tied down-for 340 miles. The next day, he supervised the installation, driving home late in the day. The sculpture had been installed.
No matter what you fancy in your garden, nothing in it ever stands still. A garden actively grows, or actively sulks, or goes down. Some days I wish I could shift into neutral and coast, but I know better. I also know that as much as I would want to devote a chunk of time to nurturing all my plants, every day, that rarely happens. I have a demanding work life; moving that along every day takes priority. I hedge my bets some with plants that seem to handle the hit and miss nature of my care. Petunias thrive on this treatment; this is one plant that the more I fuss with them, the more they resent it. A trim once in a while is enough. Angelonia does not like cold weather, but it’s not a prima donna either. Once the hot weather comes, they come on strong. 
Blue salvia is puny early on; it is a late season annual. In a good year, they handle cooling fall temperatures with aplomb. I knew I would have these late. Planting the blue star-flowered laurentia was risky. Not only am I not so familiar with its habit, it has that look of an early season annual destined to peter out. This I cannot really explain, except to say some plants just look like they won’t do. The heliotrope was stuck in first gear; this plant likes hot weather. But for the moment, the lime nicotiana alata has my attention; the weather was instrumental in making it look perfectly happy. Every year, the weather is perfect for something; I thus follow the National Weather Service three month predictions with a lot of interest in late winter. Occasionally that helps. 
By August first, we were getting an 80 degree day once in a while. You can see the effect on the licorice and heliotrope; too little heat, too late. The flowering on the laurentia is slowing down, as I thought it would. Though the flowering is so- so, the plants are growing fine. The overall shape and the interaction of the group is the success of the box. Cool and dry made for unusually few bugs and no disease .
By early September, my balanced box has gone too tall-bad maintenance on my part. Trimming plants back keeps them stocky, and encourages them to reflower. However, this height is a great look from the street; the flowers are visible over the boxwood. 
As I predicted, the laurentia bloomed out, and needs replacing. By September 15, our weather is in transition. I expect night temperatures in the high forties this week yet. However, I am not willing to rip the boxes yet; I hold on to my summer season as long as I can. We are having our warmest daytime temperatures of the season. As there are plenty of plants that thrive in cool night temperatures, I will replace as needed. 
A good haircut and deadheading came first; late is better than never. As long as the warm weather holds, the coleus will respond quickly to the trim. There is no reason to give up what you have looked after all season. There is every good reason to keep what is good, and replace what isn’t.
A retaining wall of pressure treated lumber was installed near the lot line; the lindens were planted some sixteen inches above grade. A six foot high wood fence, painted “disappearing green”, would provide complete screening at the tree level. My clients are very fond of the buildings in New Harmony, Indiana. All of the later additions and modifications to the original architecture have been painted “disappearing green”-a color which recedes from view such that it is easy to see the original architectural intent of the buildings. I would describe the color as a dark muddy green brown. With the trees and fence in place, the screening would be a dominant element of the garden, but occupy a very small space. I lowered the ground plane as much as I could without endangering the drainage of the loqwer level. The trees instantly gained 18 inches in height; this placement put the lower branches of the lindens just above the top of the fence. This is what I would call engineering one’s screening. 
Of course that sixteen inches of soil was not going to stay put without some retaining on the front edge as well. My clients chose a rustic stone for the tree planter box walls, and the retaining for the garden beds. You see stone laid out everywhere on the site; the stone mason needs to pick and choose which stones fit together so the mortar joints are small and unobtrusive. It would be three steps up into the house; I made them deep and wide-easy to navigate. It was most important to them to have a private garden; they were willing to deal with the up and down. 
The sixteen inches of plant mix filling these beds would vastly improve the quality and drainage of the soil. The garden would be easy to plant, and weed. The worst thing about weeds-how far they are away from your fingers, and what your back has to do in order to get your fingers where they need to be. An entire tool industry is built around that distance. These gardens would be closer to the hands maintaining them.
This landscape would eventually have three distinct levels. The change of grade would provide a lot of visual interest for a very small space. Not incidentally, a sunken garden dramatically reduces ambient noise. Earth is the only thing which really blocks sound; no amount of plant material will screen out unwelcome noise. Homes built in close proximity face both audial and visual screening issues. I like living in a neighborhood, but am I enchanted with my neighbor’s kids shrieking or the sound of their lawn mower-no, not so much.
