On the Level
Like it or not, we’re all on the front lines of the environmental sustainability movement. In fact, as shapers of water and land, few are in better positions than we are to make a difference, with many of us frequently working alongside architects, municipal officials and developers and being asked to design and implement green approaches that minimize a given project’s effects on its surrounding environs. As I see it, this offers us not only a golden opportunity to shape the future of land development and architecture, but also to rise from
One of the things I love about my chosen profession is that no two days are exactly alike: Instead of installing the same design in the same way day after day, I’m constantly forging ahead, taking new paths, moving in new directions. With these explorations come many opportunities to learn new techniques and work through new ideas. And I like the fact that I’ve built a reputation as someone who enjoys pushing the envelope and trying out approaches I haven’t
Whether you’re a watershaper or a landscape architect, designer or artist, I’ve always felt that those of us who work on exterior environments should stand on the front lines of the “green movement.” After all, we move the soil, alter the terrain, plant trees and shrubs and define the use of water, among many other things. In the course of doing what we do, in other words, we alter (sometimes profoundly) the environments in which our clients live and work. It seems the media are taking notice. Every year, for example, our
In my capacity as landscape consultant to a town near where I live, I was approached recently by a landscape architect who was just starting her career after graduating from a prestigious, five-year landscape architecture program in my home state of New York. She was designing a butterfly garden, she said, and wanted to know what plants to use. As I ran down the list, she asked me to stop at one name in particular and spell it. The plant in question was
I must say that I look forward to receiving my own copy of WaterShapes in the mail each month. It’s not because I can’t wait to see my own columns in print; rather, it’s because so I’m amazed and inspired by the work watershapers put on display here that I always devour each and every page. That’s not, by the way, anything I’d say about the rest of the 30-odd trade magazines I receive via mail or e-mail. WaterShapes always seems to deal with the best of the best, and reading about how these incredible projects come together is
In recent weeks, I’ve spent a good bit of time speaking to landscaping colleagues, garden clubs and symposium attendees about our general need to get smarter when it comes to how we think about landscapes. This is all part of my perpetual campaign to convince everyone to use the right plants in the right places in order to save water, labor and the fuels consumed in maintaining them. A big part of my pitch is one I’ve addressed before in this space – that is, I object to
In just about every profession, it seems that there’s one thing or another that goes unnoticed and underappreciated because it is overshadowed by more visible or sensational elements. In the watershaping and landshape trades, for example, I see foundations as being among these unsung details despite their obvious significance. They’re so important that I always talk with my clients about them and the role proper preparation plays in the success of everything atop them. After all, I say, a home can have wonderful tile work in the kitchen, but it really won’t be worth much unless
As winter draws to a close here in the northeast, we begin preparing in earnest to deal with the inevitable springtime rush. There are contracts to sign, materials to order, plants to grow, schedules to set and hires (if any) to be made. And we do all of this knowing that, once the weather breaks, we want to burst out of the gate like an odds-on favorite at the Kentucky Derby. To make this happen, we need to be ready. Where I live and work, winters are usually long, so by spring our coffers are low, our staff is eager to get some exercise and our general desire to
Last month, I opened a two-part discussion on healing gardens, a trend in landscape design that’s become popular among managers at hospitals and other healthcare facilities who desire spaces where patients, visitors and staff can spend a bit of time in nature to heal, set aside stress and otherwise regenerate themselves. In the time since I first became involved with these spaces, I’ve also seen demand for these gardens – known in other contexts as “tranquility gardens” – grow among
If you’ve ever spent time in the hospital, you’re probably like me in having done your best to forget the experience. Not only were you recovering from some sort of serious injury or illness (or visiting a loved one who was), but you also had to endure the process in an environment that wasn’t quite hospitable. Most likely the room you or your loved one occupied was filled by an adjustable bed surrounded by beeping instruments. The walls were putty-white and scuffed, a couple of cellblock-like doors led to the bathroom and hallway – and a worn-out television hung questionably above the bed, threatening to
