
I have been a fan of baseball my whole life. Early on, my Mom and Grandmother listened religiously to Ernie Harwell announcing the Detroit Tiger’s games, so I did too. I miss this. Once in a blue moon would we get to go to the park for a game. The landscape invariably changes, does it not? Now Detroit has a new ballpark, Comerica Park. The lions outside are garden sculpture of a massive scale-and so beautifully done. Kids climb on them, and pose for pictures underneath them. They generate a lot of excitement for the game before you ever go inside. The huge piazza accomodates lots of fans, so fine for people watching.

I was given box seats behind home plate for my entire crew and their families by a client. This was a very special treat for us all.
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A ball field is a landscape of a very particular sort. The grass is lovingly tended, mowed in both directions, and grown to perfection. The ground is flat, but for the infield which has just enough pitch to drain quickly. The infield is a certain clay over sand that absorbs moisture, enabling ball players to dig in yet still firm enough that they can run for their lives. This clay also cushions the shock of a slide into second base. There is just the right amount of dust-up. The composition of infield soil has quite a body of literature, should you be interested. This probably has no basis in science whatsoever, but I believe the sharp crack when the bat hits the ball owes it resonance to the even moisture in the soil. This ball park is lit by gigantic high intensity lights. The lighting is perfectly even everywhere. No shadows. This light, which is so unlike the light from the sky, makes everything very sharp and clear. We American take our baseball seriously-no romance welcome here.
As soon as a sprinkle of rain becomes regular, the grounds crew appears with a giant tarp rolled-rolled onto a cylinder. Eighteen grounds crew, and their superintendent, get down to business in a big hurry. A sopping wet infield makes play impossible. �

I had never seen the rain tarp rolled out before. As disappointed as I was the game might be called on account of rain, it was like watching a precisely choreographed ballet, seeing that tarp put in place. Who tarps their landscape in rejection of water from the sky? Ball field landscapes, of course. The size of this job is no doubt vastly more staggering from the ground plane, than it appeared to me from my box seat. It appeared effortless and fast; I was impressed. �

I admire the precision of this landscape, as much as I do its maintenance. Like many Detroiters, I have memories of summer that included baseball; the 1968 World Series I remember in some detail. 
The landscape and lighting enabled and encouraged me to watch the play, single out favorite players, follow a fly ball that might do a home run distance, or a close call at the plate. A hotly contested game needs a perfectly maintained landscape-so fans and players alike focus on the play at hand.
How amazing that 18 people managed to cover this infield in a manner of seconds. I am thinking about Heather Nabozny, the only female head groundskeeper for any major league baseball team. She is young, and people say has a fire burning-this I admire in her. I understand what it means to be responsible for making things happen. I like it when women do well with landscape. This has to be a highly technical and demanding landscape to maintain. She is doing a truly great job; I think the park looks beautiful. I support my home town team, and all that its landscape does to make the game happen. But most of all I admire Heather Nabozny-she is making my experience, and the memory of my experience, possible.
It was Henry Mitchell who wrote that defiance is what makes gardeners; I believe him. Everyone who works for me gardens. It is interesting to see what they make, and how they use their voice. This loft right downtown in Pontiac is home to Lauren Hanson; she works in the store. It is one of many buildings in the area in various states of disrepair and dereliction. But it is obvious she has an idea about how to live and garden. Defiantly.
She is young, and has adventuresome ideas. She tells me she likes living in this loft, that it has so much more presence and attitude than a suite of rooms in an apartment building. This urban location doesn’t dismay her in the least; she is energized by it. A friend built her a windowbox for the floor of her mini-deck, and she planted flowers in very lively colors. The mossed baskets in the windows take some of the edge off the bars on the windows.
When Lauren has a design idea, she figures out how to get there with materials she spots at house sales and thrift shops. The planted galvanized florist’s buckets hanging from the railing look sassy, and sensational. They are a great shape, and the silver sheen repeats the color and shine of blue sky reflecting off the windows glass. She tells me she will live here until she finds a house she can buy. In the meantime, she has made this loft a home , with a very good looking garden. All the plants are well grown, and kept up. She is of independent mind, and she has a great spirit; this is unusual people her age. She has her own ideas about what’s good, and what’s important. Even more impressive, she’s self effacing to a fault; my customers really like her. She has made it her business to learn about plants, and their care, so she can help people. She’s made an effort to become knowledgable about what we have-this you cannot hire.
Number 43 is not only occupied, but it is occupied by an urban pioneer who gardens. She has big ideas, and good things ahead of her. This very petite blond woman hauls around forty pound bags of soil like its nothing. She looks after our plants and pots. She photographs everything we have, and maintains our website. She does the work of the posting for me. Like I said, she has a fire burning all of her own making; it will be interesting to see where she takes that.






Though I posted a few weeks ago that the loss of Rob’s schnauzer Libby was the end of an era, that assessment was more about my grief than the truth. Eras overlap. Though she is gone, I have a group of three who this minute delight me. I have many plants still in my garden that date back to my purchase of my house and property 15 years ago. MCat, Milo and Howard shared the space with the schnauzers-how they loved Libby at the last-and how this irritated her. She kept that irritation up start to finish. These three never gave up, hoping she would fall for them. Is this not a story every life has in some version or another? I have old plants in my garden that were no doubt irritated, buffeted by my ownership. The big idea here-eras overlap. Keep the old friends in your garden as long as you can. Welcome your new friends, and move on. Its a new era.
Another long bluestone walk set parallel to the house runs almost the entire length of the rear yard. The boxwood you see in this picture had been planted parallel to the walk. I dug every last one of them up, and replanted them in runs perpendicular to the walk. Why? The walkway strongly makes a description of that north/south direction and dimension-planting boxwood next to it doen’t make it stronger, or more interesting. Replanting the boxwood perpendicular to the house, encourages visitors to the garden to slow down, and view the gardens. The boxwood is associated with the gardens now, and makes those areas stronger visually. The walk needed no such help.
Each end of that walk has its center of interest. A beautiful hand made Italian terra cotta pot on a pedestal can be viewed from the dining table at the other end. Guests entering the garden from the south see the dining table centered in their view. This announces the location of the terrace, and presents that table as a sculptural element, in addition to its function.
The terrace furniture is kept company by a number of planted pots. These pots help make the larger garden an integral part of the terrace. The Palabin lilacs on standard are a crisp contrast to the profusion of the garden and pots.
This long view is inviting; the boxwood placement invites lingering. This is much the same idea as a wedding coordinator instructing the bridal party how to take their time getting down the aisle. There is no need to rush.
I have talked plenty about how much presence and personality great pots can add to a landscape. They help to create a sense of intimacy on a terrace. They are just plain good to look at.
The bones of a garden are so important. This arborvitae screen at the end of this walk, and the walk itself ,are always there, functional and well-designed. This structure will be transformed by weather, season and light; there is interest there. In this landscape, the supporting cast members along the way make this garden much more than just about getting from one place to another.
It’s impossible to tell that I am standing in the soccer lawn, taking this picture. This small property has spaces for a whole family. Limelight hydrangeas back up the garden, and help keep the soccer ball on the lawn field, and out of the garden.
The short south side walk is decomposed granite. Window boxes of painted galvanized sheet metal run the entire length of what is a sun porch. This part of the garden is viewed primarily from inside; the flowers in the window bring a whole other dimension to the interior space. These Persian Queen geraniums bloom profusely in this sunny protected spot. Fragaria “Lipstick” carpets the ground under the boxes.
For anyone who might love flowers and lots of them,, this garden is a delight.