
It is probably close to 15 years ago that Rob wrapped a vintage steel tractor tire hoop with a string of incandescent holiday lights, and hung it in a tree. On a whim, I might add. A hank of ten ends jute attached to the top of the ring at one end, and a stout branch of the tree on the other end, also provided cover for the electrical cord at the end of the light string that would run across the top of the branch and back to the main trunk. Once that cord dropped to the ground, an extension cord would deliver the electricity needed to light up that ring. So unexpectedly beautiful -a lighted circle effortlessly suspended from a branch of a tree. With no apparent source of electricity. Magic, this. And not to mention simple. One lighted ring 3′ in diameter would speak loud and clear to the holiday and winter season ahead – every day and all through the night.

In its most basic form, a circle is a powerful and compelling shape. It has no beginning or end. The history and importance of the circle in art, engineering, music, mathematics, astronomy, design and so on dates back centuries. There is much more to the symbolism and meaning of a circle than its geometry. Very little of human endeavour does not touch on or recall the circle in some way. Every circle I design in to a landscape recalls all of that history. A circle has an aura that comes with it. Every lighted circle displayed over the winter and holiday season makes that aura visible.

That first lighted hoop gave way to a channel steel version designed by Rob in various sizes, and manufactured for Detroit Garden Works. Later came his rather brilliant design for a spiked hoop held aloft by a steel rectangle whose four long rod steel legs could be inserted into the soil in a pot or in the ground. Lighted hoops featured in winter and holiday pots and container arrangements delighted my clients. They have become a mainstay of our winter season. Soon we were shipping the lighted rings all over the country. I was so pleased to see our gardening clientele coming to Detroit Garden Works to shop for materials for that 4th season. The winter.

Those original hanging light rings from years ago did a brave job of keeping the dreary part of the winter at bay. The dark part, that is. Having moved the design and construction of our winter container arrangements indoors means we have time to study on the design and construction. The time constraints of the winter container season is an invitation to hurry. Hurried work can look hurried. So we have had some time to study on those light rings, and think about how else we could use them. Or what we could add to them.

It was inevitable that given enough time and exposure, we would start to tinker with that basic light ring. Maybe a different style of light would change things up. Perhaps the ring could be a structure – an armature upon which something else beautiful and sculptural could be built. For this project, the lighted ring was lined with a diminutive evergreen garland that would connect that steel circle visually with the evergreens populating the box. The circle is stronger, and is a more important part of the composition, given the additional emphasis that the garland provides. The trio of over scaled steel pine cones that Rob had sourced overseas anchors the ring to the ground plane of the box.

Each of the four light rings are immersed in alternating rows of red bud pussy willow stems. Two fingers between each branch is how we space them. That thicket softens the geometry of the circle. It provides some mystery. The mass of them soften the light shining back into the windows. The twigs, and greens surrounding them suggest a garden environment – similar to and reminiscent of those places outdoors that gardeners treasure. Needless to say, I have clients that keep their light rings powered up all year round. Given how little power the LED lights draw, there is no reason not to enjoy them all winter long.

Whether the weather obliges with one inch or 10 inches of snow, the rings will keep beaming.










A client came in last week wearing a tee shirt that had the word BEAUTY printed across it. A few days later her Mom came in, wearing the same shirt. I have no idea as to the origin, intent or meaning of that word having been printed on that shirt. I did not ask. But it did set me to thinking about beauty. And how the pursuit and appreciation of it has been a life’s work, and the source of so much pleasure and satisfaction. Like many others, I came to be a gardener from an intense interest and fascination with the natural world. The visual drama of an emerging leaf, the impossibly intense blue color of a delphinium flower, the fragrance of a mock orange in bloom, the shape of an ancient beech tree-everything about the life of plants provides vigorous exercise and engagement to all of the senses. It is not at all unusual to know of a gardener swooning over this or that flower. So normal in my circle and probably yours. The beauty of nature provides a profound pleasure for the heart, hand, and soul, if you will.
A definitive explanation of what constitutes beauty is next to impossible, as it does not exist in a vacuum. A beauty designation is entirely arbitrary and fiercely personal. There is a unique relationship between the observer and the observed. What is seen and what is there to be seen. There are those gardeners who adore green flowers or spring ephemera, and those who wax poetic about hot pink peonies, yellow dahlias and red hibiscus. There are others that would be hard pressed to name a plant they don’t like, just as there are those who think that a beautiful landscape would by definition be confined to hellebores and beech trees. Zinnias are most beautiful to me in large part as they remind me of my Mom. Everyone has their own closely held ideas about what is beautiful.
What constitutes beauty in a garden is a topic of endless discussion. Gardeners and designers of gardens fiercely debate the fine points, and acknowledge their common ground. I admire some gardens and landscapes more than others, as some are more beautiful to me than others. Whether it be plants, houses, landscapes, art, books, music, bridges or… garden pots, a need for beauty has always been an integral part of the human experience. It is as simple and as complex as that.
It has been my good fortune over the years to come in contact with ornament for the garden of great beauty. I owe most of that exposure to Rob, who has been shopping and buying for Detroit Garden Works since before it opened in 1996. It is our 25th year in business this year. I find it remarkable that a modestly sized garden shop in the Midwest has not only survived for that long, it has prospered – buying and selling objects and plants of beauty for the garden. That beauty designation by Rob might include something smart and forward thinking. Some other item might be redolent of the earthy odor of history, sassy and off center, or strongly evocative of a farm garden. His is a very discerning eye, and his range of expertise in his field has been amassed over a long period of time. Opening the shop all those years ago was about wanting to share that aesthetic with other gardeners, and make beautiful garden ornament available to others. That is what we do – celebrate the beauty of the garden.
Which brings me to a discussion of these pots. They are of French manufacture. A poterie that has been in business since the late nineteenth century has evolved from a company making terra cotta roof and drain tiles to a fine art studio creating pots of great beauty for the garden. The poterie was built but 300 meters from their clay quarry. There is precious little about them that is not to like. The sculptural shapes are classically French. The designs date back centuries. Each pot is hand made, and signed by the artisan who made it.

The contrasting surfaces are as appealing to the touch as they are to the eye.
This picture makes it clear that each pot is hand made. Each one of these olive jars is subtly different in shape and size than its neighbor.
The pattern of the rope inside survives the glazing and firing process.
The stamps
The collection of medium olive jars

This is indeed an extraordinarily unusual and beautiful collection of pots.
















