Solstice

The Morgan Garden would not continue to delight its visitors without the help of a group of volunteers, the Friends of the Tiger Glen. Here are a few of these individuals are helping Marc create a mix of Bryum argenteum fragments, sand and soil to sweep into the "river stones" in the bed of the cleft.

I thoroughly enjoy tracking time in the coming and passing of astronomical events and mulling over the significance of it all. Today marks the beginning of winter and as the sun continues its ascent from our earthly perspective and grows in strength, I turn my focus to what has yet to come. I am very excited.

I have no idea what awaits me in the coming year but I have my desires. I am very thankful for the opportunities I received throughout 2011, even down to this last month.

You may recall in previous posts, landscape designer Marc Keane asked for my services in identifying the mosses in his Morgan Garden at the Johnson Museum. Amidst my frantic masters thesis writing I managed to squeeze in a moss photo shoot and a bit of corresponding descriptive text. To which I have already alluded, I am a little pressed for time, otherwise I would copy this interpretive information on this post, so click here instead!

I got to chatting with one of the curators at the museum and it looks like there is a strong possibility of me giving a talk on my involvement with this garden this coming Spring. I hope it becomes a reality!

Exciting Note: I have since contributed to 3 more botanical-nomenclature-focused publications! See my updated post for more details.

Completion

Acer saccharum is luminescent in early October with its florescent orange foliage. For this reason sugar maples are one of my favorite trees.
Here in Ithaca, New York we are currently experiencing a very long stretch of gorgeous, cloudless autumn days. October is my favorite month, and 2011 certainly has not disappointed.

I am especially excited to have seen the grand opening of Marc Keane's moss garden I stumbled upon over a year ago at Sticks and Stones Farm in Connecticut. It was a wild coincidence that this moss garden was going to be installed at Cornell and I would be there to see it. I have been anticipating its arrival since.

That afternoon, a couple days ago, I made my way down the beaten path along Fall Creek. The day was pristine and the waters rushing through the gorges and down the falls left an impression in my memory. I arrived at the Johnson Museum of Art on campus and followed a group down to the newly opened wing. The sight of the garden through the expansive windows literally took my breath away, and that doesn't happen very often. We were invited to explore the officially titled Rebecca Q. and James C. Morgan Garden before the presentation began.

The stones and mosses all came from Sticks and Stones Farm (though Marc did mention that he harvested some mosses from the Cornell campus, blended it with sand and sprinkled in into the bed of the cleft, a couple years will reveal a beautiful mossy patina!). A quick glance revealed numerous species, though it is predominantly Plagiomnium cuspidatum and Polytrichum commune. I was too engaged with the holistic view of the landscape that I did not spend my time there with my face in the ground identifying all the mosses as I would normally do. I will let the pictures speak for themselves:



A perfect juxtaposition of textures.







A true master/artist/magician with stone.



An audible element of tranquility.

A group of volunteers, the Friends of the Tiger Glen, will maintain this garden twice a day, everyday to ensure its aesthetic qualities.
The curator of Asian art, Ellen Avril, started off the presentation explaining the inspiration for the garden; the Chinese parable of the "Three Laughers of the Tiger Glen", the moral of which demonstrates how overcoming differences can lead to mutual understanding and unity of friendship. This scroll depicting the story has recently been accessioned into the museum's collection.

Kano Doun Masanobu
Japanese, 1625–1694
Three Laughers of the Tiger Glen
Hanging scroll: ink and colors on silk
10 1/2 x 26 3/4 inches
Acquired through the Lee C. Lee Fund for East Asian Art
2011.025
Marc then presented the audience with his design and building process. It was fun seeing the pictures of the stonework being laid out at Sticks and Stones Farm, knowing I captured those same images over a year ago.

Here is the story of the Three Laughers taken directly from Marc's website:

"The Tiger Glen is the setting of a famous Chinese parable, often reproduced in Chinese and Japanese paintings. In the story three men, each of whom represents a philosophy or religion, experience a flash of enlightenment and mutual understanding. The story goes that Huiyuan, a Buddhist priest, lived in seclusion from society in his mountain temple, swearing never to leave its precincts by crossing the nearby Tiger Glen. One day, he was visited by two close friends: Tao Yuanming, a Confucianist, and Lu Xiujing, a Daoist. Late in the day, as he saw them off, Huiyuan was so lost in friendly conversation that he unwittingly crossed the Tiger Glen. At this, the three men broke out laughing, realizing true wisdom surpasses a strict adherence to dogma."

In the center of the photo you can see the 3 large, upright boulders (one behind the pine) representing the 3 laughers with a disconnected stone bridge that transverses the cleft in between them. The pine represents the rugged nature of the mountains depicted in many of the paintings of this tale.
Questions were taken at the end of the presentation. People inquired about his inspiration and how he laid out the stonework. To this he relayed a Japanese phrase which translated to "listen to the request of the stone". It is apparently an established way of designing with natural elements in that part of the world - such a lovely and respectful way to design in my opinion.

When someone in the audience asked how long moss lives for, Marc asked "Is there a moss expert here who can answer that?", as if prompting me to reveal myself. Timidly I raised my hand. He smiled and gestured for me to answer the question. "Ah, so you must be the one who was at Sticks and Stones," he said after my response. "I would really like it if you could map the mosses in the garden, I know there are a ton of species in there, I'm just not sure what they are." Enthusiastically I said I would love to.

At the end of the session after everyone gets up to go admire the garden again before sunset. I get up to leave and turn to see Marc standing right in front of me. We exchange greetings and he tells me he really would, honestly appreciate it if I would make note of all the species and create some type of corresponding map - as if his sincerity was not clear during the Q & A session! Again I expressed my excitement for the project! I hope to be able to make the time to do it in the next few weeks...at least before the snow arrives.

Yet another mossy opportunity has fallen into my lap :)

Connections

I’m a firm believer that everything happens for a reason. Sometimes when and why events occur seems to be a direct result of past occurrences; events that otherwise wouldn’t have occurred had some instance never happened prior. You could say it is the hand of fate weaving this interconnected tapestry. My life is filled with these silly coincidences – as if the universe has a plan for me. Maybe it does.

Last Saturday I found myself driving down a particular road past a wholesale nursery where I worked a few years ago – honestly a place I would rather forget. In all seriousness, the fondest memory I have of this place is driving down that road back home with the biggest smile on my face and laughing after my last day of working there.

Everyday I would drive past Sticks and Stones Farm. I knew they grew moss there, which was enough for me to want to visit! Yet it felt like something was telling me not to stop in; perhaps the universe didn’t want me to install a potentially wonderful memory among memories of a time in my life I didn’t want to remember.

My chance came three years later. I turned down their gravel road and walked towards a stone barn. I was greeted by Annie. I told her my reason for my visit: I was thinking of developing my grad thesis around the curation of bryophytes in public gardens. Seeing as how gardens can acquire plants through farms like this one, I wanted to learn how they do their thing. Annie was intrigued and delighted to have me there. She peeked around the side of the barn to find a young man named Andrew working with beautiful hand carved stone planters filled with moss. She told me he would be happy to answer some of my questions.

As we strolled around the property, Andrew told me the farm is technically a working preserve. Not only do they cultivate moss, but they also excavate large stone erratics from the property as well as hold workshops and retreats. We walked a path along the base of a hill side covered in Kalmia latifolia (mountain laurel) with a thick, unfragmented carpet of Leucobryum glaucum (pincushion moss) underneath as far up the hill as I could see - it looked immaculate! What was their secret? Well, I’m not going to give it away :)

Down in the lowland areas I could see hundreds of trays filled with Climacium dendroides. He showed me a labyrinth he was in the process of constructing. he tells me it is modeled after the one in Chartres Cathedral. The project was only partially filled with Climacium. He didn't want to continue since the moss he planted wasn't looking too happy. I commented that the area was pretty exposed under the thin, deciduous canopy and the gravel path didn't really provide a very saturated environment for that species, and that could explain its sad appearance.

When we arrived back up at the barn, Annie told me of a book she just started reading and thought I would enjoy it. I laughed when she retrieved a copy of Dr. Kimmerer’s book, Gathering Moss. She got a kick out of hearing about my connection to the author. At this point, Tim Currier, owner of the farm and Annie’s husband, came in. Annie served us a delicious banana-coffee milkshake as I told him the reason for my visit and my plans to begin grad school at Cornell. He mentioned he was just about to begin a Japanese-style moss garden project for a landscape architect-friend of his, Marc Keane, to be installed next spring at the Johnson Museum on the Cornell campus. He showed me some CAD drawings of this project titled, “The Garden of the Tiger Glen”. This future project will feature a 400 square foot area with a carpet of moss (Tim is thinking of using Mnium), an 18 inch deep ravine made of stone cutting through, three large stone “kings” and a large tree coming from Pennsylvania. Tim will build the garden onsite later this month (I plan to return later to check on the progress before I move to Ithaca). It will then be disassembled and transported to the campus. I am very excited that I stumbled onto this project when I did. I get to see it as Tim constructs it and the finished product next spring at Cornell! What are the odds…

But that’s not the only exciting that happened on my spontaneous excursion. Annie told Tim about my connection with Robin Kimmerer and he said that since reading her book he has wanted to view mosses under a microscope to see them as Robin describes. He then went to retrieve an old microscope he found in an old house he acquired on his property. He had no idea how to use it, but luckily for him he had all the essential instruments and a certain individual who knew exactly how to use them – me! We went out and I plucked a small bit of Mnium cuspidatum and Polytrichum commune and proceeded to mount them on slides. Only his 10X objective was functional, but it was enough to make him say “Wow!” when he stared down the eyepiece. He called over a couple other people to come and check it out – both with the same exclamation. Thirty years working with mosses and this was his first glimpse into what mosses really look like. Tim was absolutely delighted to have been taught this lesson and excitedly extended an invitation for me to come back whenever I wanted. If there was ever any work or studies I wanted to do with mosses, his property was available - which was amazing. As we parted he verbalized his hope of setting up a “moss camp” so that others can see what I revealed to him today, and of course I offered my services as an instructor.

And so there I was again driving down that road, the biggest smile on my face and laughing – so happy to have made those connections: between me and them, between them and moss, and between me, them, moss and Cornell. I love to reveal the mysteries of moss and see the people’s reactions; to show them something that is hidden to the naked eye, only viewable with an ocular aid.

So I arrived as if called by these people at a time when they needed me – just as they were going to begin this large project for a large university, just as they began reading Dr. Kimmerer’s book and needed help in getting a glimpse into the microscopic world of mosses. It's a pretty small world after all...

Note: I will add pictures once I return to check out the progress on the moss garden...I will remember my camera next time!