Where the Wild Things Are

The other day I was asked if I would ever return to landscaping. My gut reaction was a resounding, "No." I am just the kind of person who likes to keep moving forward. Whether it is relationships or employers, it has been my experience that once you leave, it's best not to look back. That's not to say I have burnt bridges everywhere I've been - no, I've stayed on good terms with all of my employers and most of my ex's - it's just been my experience that whatever prompted me to make a change, has likely...not changed. So when it comes to landscape design: I've been there, I've done that and, even worse, the break-up was a bitter one. I was fortunate to be offered a position in the publishing industry but the decision to leave my business was not easy. Oh, how I cried and lamented to anyone who would listen, you would have thought I had lost a job rather than having just earned one - and in a way I guess, I had. For 15 years I had been working towards a higher position in my field and suddenly was walking away from it all.

Lately though a few conversations have opened my mind to the idea of returning; one of my favorite clients called to let me know she and her husband have finally begun construction of a large addition they had been planning and wanted to know if I would redesign their landscape, and I had the opportunity to interview a contractor who understood the importance of design. I was so thrilled to discuss it that I could barely stay on topic for the article. My exuberance on the phone prompted my editor to ask what the craziest job I had ever designed was. I told him about the cemetery we designed; the folly we built to disguise a hot tub; the time I squeezed a tiny pool into the setbacks of a ridiculously small property; about the clients who requested a professional horseshoe pit; another whose property had to accommodate a go-kart track; a dog rescuer who wanted a habitat for her huskies; and some disturbing requests to bury pets, relatives ashes and childrens' afterbirth (we would dig the hole, I said, but they were on their own to place it in).

A folly built to offer privacy for a hot-tub in a tightly packed development

A Tuscan-themed patio for a townhouse as seen from the vineyard planted on the hill

A patio designed around a 12' fountain the clients purchased before deciding they needed a patio

A patio built to allow the clients access into the hot-tub from their backdoor without any steps

A patio built to offer three distinct use spaces for a busy family of seven

Of course many of the projects I was involved with were crazy simply due to their size, scope or outrageous budgets, some of the wildest though are those that never were. There have been many in my career that failed to come to life - the multilevel patio on Maple that they never built, the firepit in Cranberry that we overbid, the terraced steps and rill on Foxcroft that were eliminated to meet zoning requirements, the vanishing edge pool which I left the company before seeing built - and the sad thing is that I know where each of them "should" have been and what they "would" have looked like. I keep their designs, I drive by to see if any work has been done or what another's end result was. Two of the most recent such failures though cut especially deep because they were lost when I was operating my own firm. It is easier to excuse the loss when you are just a cog in the wheels but when you are the driver, well, you only have yourself to blame.

The first one was a lesson hard learned early in my business. I was contacted by a builder whose client had asked him to solicit a landscape project along with some work he was doing. I met with the homeowner, made suggestions they like and was told budget wasn't a concern (first mistake). When the design was complete I gave it to the contractor for mark up (second mistake) but was told he would be meeting with the clients without me (final mistake). The contractor came back with word that they were shocked by the cost of everything they requested, I offered to make revisions but he said they were still considering it. Weeks went by without an answer and I was helpless to communicate with the client. Finally, I was told the client had chosen another concept. Fine, I said, just give me back my design...again weeks went by....and again I had to ask.

You are a mean one, Mr. Green.

Eventually my design was returned but several months later as I was standing at a suppliers counter watching photos scroll by on their computer screen I saw my design - or rather the landscape constructed using it - slide by. I never found out who the offender was, the clerk at the counter only knew the images were provided by another customer, but I was sick to my stomach over it. I had been used, lied to and cheated in only my first few months in business.

My isometric sketch may have been crude, but there was no mistaking the photo on screen

I experienced heartbreak again in my last year. A woman contacted me looking for something different, something unlike her neighbors, something with unusual shapes and high-quality materials, a fireplace, an outdoor kitchen, a pergola and a pool. I designed a project with all that - and it even met her budget! The sun deck was placed to allow tanning outside the large shadow cast by the home, the patio accommodated the 12-person table she special ordered and the raised beds meant no railing would block the views. I was actually scheduled to present some additions she had made to the proposal when she returned from a trip overseas ...but she never did or at least she never returned my calls. I have no idea what happened to her and to this day nothing has been built in her yard. In this case, I'm not even sure if I did something wrong, I just know that it would have been beautiful.

I hope one day you get that beautiful patio, Dr. Rim.

These stories put me right back on the fence about my career as a designer; on one hand I was able to create beautiful ideas, on the other I lost them to competition, cost or mis-communication. See, that is the thing about being a designer, you are not able to just be an artist - you are also a salesperson, an estimator, a logistics expert, a weatherman and sometimes a counselor. Your best ideas can be rejected, your process is dirty and in some cases your medium can die. Frankly, I'm just not sure I am ready for that again.