Seeking Solace
From the Verdana Time for a Garden for Peace - March/April 2002
Text and Photography by Tom Woodham

Sir Isaac Newton theorized the existence of gravity supposedly as he sat under an apple tree. His theory was an earth-shaking idea, but another weighty concept may also be deduced from the idyllic scene: the garden as a place for contemplative thought. Manmade gardens have served many purposes during their evolution from practical herb and physic beginnings to the richly complicated recreational terrains of today. Perhaps their most important modern role is that of personal sanctum.

During times of stress we draw solace from gardens, and never has this been more compelling than in our current confrontation with terrorism. The weekend after the September 11 tragedy I drove down to my farm with close friends. I needed their companionship and the connectedness of plunging my hands into the earth to foster renewal and a sense of being in control of my destiny. We cleaned away the remains of summer vegetables, worked the beds and planted collards, turnips, mustard, cabbage, and lettuces plus some broccoli and kohlrabi for variety in the fall season. Our meals were taken at a granite table under an old pecan tree. There we talked gravely, nervously between periods of silence when the cawing crows, whistle of a titmouse and splash of water sounded grace notes to our reverie. For a time we found peace.

A place for quiet reflection outdoors has been a mainstay of psyche management since the dawn of man. The ancients found there were places in nature inexplicably imbued with reverential power. They regarded them as sacred grounds for worship, healing, comfort—areas where they could feel safe from a ferociously hostile world. In the ensuing millennia, man began to create as well as discover areas for respite.

The idea of going into a special space suggest the importance of a sense of enclosure, of natural temples existing before man built such structures. The feeling in the midst of a giant redwood grove in California is often described as cathedral-like. This sense of enclosure elicited by tall tree trunks and a leafy canopy is just one characteristic of a garden that engenders tranquility, according to the late Simon Downs, who formulated guidelines for the international organization, Gardens for Peace. Downs identified other components—mystery, water, vegetation, visual and non-visual stimuli—even though there are differences in regional approaches to garden design and how we interpret a garden based on our past experiences: what we bring to it mentally, physically and spiritually.

Downs’ findings are helpful in making a garden for peace for yourself or your community. A tranquil setting should start with a tree or a grove of trees. Rare sights more awe-inspiring than great trees, especially large canopied oaks, maples, sycamores, lindens, even old nut trees like pecan or hickory. Planning a garden around an existing tree establishes immediate overhead enclosure. If a tree is not yet mature, a pergola or three-sided shelter offers a sense of security. Hedges or simple walls define a space, yet do not hide a view so the spirit may take a restorative soar to some mysterious place beyond.

The Italian gardino segreto, the English secret garden, the path disappearing around the bend, shadows and light filtered through leaves—all suggest mystery, a sense of something more that adds to the total garden experience. Emily Whaley of Charleston, South Carolina, proved you can have a secret place even in a small garden. A the rear of her tiny city lot, a path leads behind several shrubs to a private nook with a chair and table. Enshrouded in leafy verdancy, Whaley was able to escape to a placid scene seemingly miles away from the city.

Water—a small fountain, rill, gurgle, or simply a splash—is very soothing, and it speaks to an early formative sensation within us. The sustainer of life, water attracts humans and animals to its source. A flat reflective pool or a pond’s still surface mesmerizes our minds in a quiet way. A water element provides an evocative focal point in a small garden, and in a large one it may be the wellspring of a larger water ensemble. Its flow might nourish other parts of the garden through a series of channels, an idea as old as the Persian pleasure gardens, yet one as equally alluring today.

Although the repetitive sound of waves has a calming effect, the roar of rushing torrents is not appropriate in a meditation garden. Too much agitation. Oversized elements, such as boulders, also add discord. For a gentler texture, assemble pebbles and small stones along the water’s edge, at the bottom of the rill or pool and for a patterned interest in walls, fountains, and seating. The same fine textural harmony extends to the garden’s foliage.

In most climate zones there is a plethora of plants, a horticultural palette varied in size, texture, blossom and duration. European exploratory ships, especially in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, returned to port laden with exotic specimens to be tested in new environments. Exchanging, breeding and research sifted the lot, a process that continues today, with the result that many of the plants we take for granted are introductions from other parts of the world where similar growing conditions exist. The garden has been and continues to be a melting pot of global individuals. How appropriate that we seek a feeling of connection in such a place. There are also gardens built of indigenous flora. Reflecting regional culture, these have deeply personal appeal to the people living there. Consider the Zen philosophy interpreted in the gardens of Japan.

Any good garden design considers the purpose for the space; thus, plants with fine textures are appropriate for a peaceful setting. Hemlock, cutleaf Japanese maple, sasanqua, privet, boxwood, yew, mountain laurel, kerria and numbers of hollies are among the many shrubs with small leaves or needles. Ground covers such as Vinca minor, miniature ivies, fig vine, thyme and velvety mosses caress the terrain. If you are not sure what thrives in your area, drive around and look at plants that seem to be doing well. Taking garden tours and perusing public gardens are good learning experiences. A generous, well-informed neighbor is invaluable.

Cacti, yucca, poncirus and giant succulents with spines or large, angular bodies do not evoke a sense of calm. And the giant leaves of gunnera and fatsia, or the spiky mahonias, tend to be jarring to the eye. In the middle ground there are shrubs with intermediate foliage—hydrangeas, indica azaleas, rhododendrons, ligustrum, cherry laurel—which are used to complement and add interest to the landscape without having a disruptive effect.

To create a peaceful garden, all the various elements are assembled in a harmonious way. Line, form, color and texture must be configured to be visually stimulating. Then you get to that magic moment, the point in the garden’s construction, even before it is finished, when the shrubs are positioned, the tree is overhead, the pond has been dug, stones are set and paths are laid, and you suddenly see it as it will be. It all hangs together as a unit. Gardeners live for this point. It is the blockbuster number that ends the first act of a Broadway musical—and the thrill stirs them to completion.

Downs understood the supporting role played by “the auditory, olfactory, tactile, and kinesthetic stimuli that people respond to consciously and subconsciously.” It is what we hear—running water, singing birds, tinkling windchimes. And what we smell—a fragrant tea olive, sweet-breath-of-spring or daphne in the winter chill, the medley of pine, azalea, yellow jessamine and daffodils in early spring, the scent of magnolia, lilac, sweet shrub and roses. The most seductive is the unexpected fragrance wafting in the air, the one we follow with our noses to its source. Brushing an herb to release its oils, stroking a soft hemlock bough and caressing a mossy stone produce gentle tactile sensations that nurture us. We are lulled by the whispering breeze shifting shadows and intricate, leafy patterns. And we find peace.

Gardens for Peace, a non-profit organization founded in 1984 by Dr. Laura Dorsey, promotes worldwide peace by recognizing and promoting gardens as symbols of peace. Currently included are numerous gardens in the USA and in Tbilisi, Georgia; Madrid, Spain; and Nairobi, Kenya. A Garden for Peace is usually located in an area with public access. It meets specified criteria and has been officially designated by the organization. Gardens for Peace, P.O. Box 7307, Atlanta, GA 30357; 404-257-8444; www.gardensforpeace.org.