War and Peace: A Gardener's Perspective
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Creating a Feng Shui Garden

Have you ever stepped into a garden that just felt right? Then again, have you been anywhere that did not feel good, and you wanted to leave? What you were probably sensing in either case was the Feng Shui (pronounced feng schway).

Several years ago Feng Shui became all the rage for interior designers and
builders, arranging furniture and siting houses according to its principles. Now it's moved into gardens.

Feng Shui is a Chinese philosophy of living in harmony with an environment. But what exactly is it? It’s working with the flow of chi. And what is that? Chi is the invisible life force that flows like streams of wind and water. It can be directed to
create a certain “feel” of a living area, even a garden.

In the forward to the book “The Feng Shui Garden” by Gill Hale, writer Armen Arto says, “…if a house is going to benefit from good overall Feng Shui, the garden cannot be left out.” If a garden is to be a place to enjoy and relax (and what garden isn’t?), the Feng Shui needs tending to.

The principles of Feng Shui are basic. Using the analogy of wind and water, if these elements are to be beneficial, their flow needs to be softened, blocked or redirected. Consider wind when it hits a wall. It’s forced up and over, with pockets of turbulence forming on the other side. In gardening terms this situation is a
microclimate and calls for certain plants that can thrive on either side of the wall. Hedges and low mounds slow the wind, again making a better climate for certain plants.

Chi is the same. If we want softness, then curved pathways and rounded beds will accommodate this. If we want swiftness and speed, then straight paths and trees lined up in a rigid row will bring this on. A yard sloping away at the back allows chi to run away, so adding structures or plants will help lift it back up. Corners are traps for chi as well as dense clusters of plants.

Chi needs a clear direction through a space and that direction can be manipulated. Roses planted in straight beds do not invite as much attention from viewers or chi as roses do in beds with irregular borders. But scattered clusters with no plan are confusing to chi.

Benches are placed in areas where chi and one’s attention are invited to linger.

Feng Shui includes five elements: Water, wood, fire, earth and metal; and in a garden these can be easily applied. If no real streams or ponds are used, the calming effect of water can be installed in low, meandering beds or gravel paths. It’s color blue can come through flowering plants. Wood symbolizes growth and
all plants posess this element, but it is also inherent in decking, rattan furniture and wooden fences. It’s color is green.

Fire, the hot and bright element, moves upward in jagged peaks. Stands of orange Day Lilies and Hot Red Pokers are two examples. The fire element needs to be kept to a minimum because it’s not often restful. The Earth element encompasses stone, rock, brick and other things that are flat and straight. Its colors are yellow and peach and brown. Finally, the metal element--dense and inward--symbolizes the process of gathering. White and silver are its colors and metal furniture and fences belong in this category.

Another important part of any garden is the entrance and exit. Jane Butler-Biggs, author of “Feng Shui in 10 Simple Lessons” says once you have crossed the boundary into the garden, your spirits “should lift and your heart soften.” Making a welcoming entrance uses wide paths or gates. These allow people as well as chi to easily flow in. Narrow gateways create rapid movement like wind tunnels. A clearly visible exit off to the side of the garden, but not directly opposite the entrance, encourages people to stay. If an exit is opposite, people and chi will want to quickly leave.

The principles of a Feng Shui garden are simple to follow. The most important question to keep asking yourself is, “If I were wind or water, which way would I go?” And work accordingly. Keep in mind that if the chi feels good to you, it’ll feel good to the splants.

War and Peace: A Gardener's Perspective

An e-mail came in this week that easily expressed how a lot of Americans are feeling these days, especially those of us who garden. In the face of this war in Iraq the utter helplessness so many of us are experiencing is just too much.

Diane Moreno, who lives in South San Isidro, NM wrote: “I have had the TV
going for days and for relief this morning, I stepped outside. Even with all this war business going on, I cannot help but catch loving glimpses at the two stunted, brave tulips blooming at my front door.”

She went on to describe her delphinium and the tiny purple flowers on the vinca vine. "It gives you hope for the near future," she wrote.

And then to further this idea, in an interview with Bill Moyers, the author Alice Walker also talked about gardens and how we have to know the “absolute truth in the goodness of the earth.”

Whether you’re for the war or not, the agitation of late can’t be ignored. And it just feels right to turn to the earth and watch how it responds to spring.

We’ve had more moisture than last year around this time and the plants are feeling the difference. They don’t know a war is going on. They don’t know that recent events are making people feel like putting their lives on hold. The buds on the lilac bushes are ready to burst. The daffodils are coming up stronger than ever, and the forsythia is just stunning. For those of us who have gardens we can take refuge in this.

Like Diane, I took timeout in my garden recently and besides seeing bulbs poking up, I was heartened to see three species of early spring butterflies flitting about. They don’t know, either, that so many of us are fretting. They were going about their
butterfly business.

Suddenly, butterflies and purple vinca flowers have become something to aspire to. Their way seems best right now: to go about our lives peacefully in this time of upheaval.

So I stooped to inspect a little closer the new rosemary bushes that I put in last fall. Then I poked my finger into the soil. None of it is frozen anymore. I peered at the ornamental grasses, then at the mullein that showed up a year ago as a weed that I let stay. I saw the new leaves on the iris; I saw some teeny tiny leaves on the thyme plants in the herb bed I put in last year.

And this is what else I found: I emerged from my first spring scrutinizing thoroughly contented, relaxed. For a good half-hour my body forgot the tension that the headlines cause now. The fretting I’ve been prone to dissipated. It’s hard on us to
continuously contain tension, and in the end being in my garden was truly a miraculous experience, and one that’s so easily within reach for gardeners.

It was Ralph Waldo Emerson who said, “...nothing can befall me in life--no disgrace, no calamity, which nature cannot repair." For many of us our gardens are as close to nature as we can get on a daily basis.

So take to your gardens like never before. Get down on your hands and knees and squint right up close to those tiny leaf buds. Get your hands dirty. Get mud on your shoes, your cuffs, and share the wonder that Diane experienced in seeing those stunted and brave tulips pushing up through the ground. And for a few mintues completely forget this is a time of war.

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