I passed a magical little garden this morning on West 74th Street. It was composed of nothing more than moss, some moderately interesting rocks, and three toy dinosaurs. I immediately recognized it as a garden and fell in love with its effective simplicity. Later, I wondered: how could I mentally elevate something so small and so simple to full-on garden status?
The moss and rocks alone would have been a lovely little urban planting, but the addition of the toy dinosaurs turned this spare arrangement into a 'Garden'. Why? Because the imaginary shift in scale transported me emotionally to an entire world apart from the cramped and visually-cluttered urban sidewalk I physically inhabited.
It would be easy to become distracted by this imaginary shift in scale that allowed a tiny plot to become a world large enough to draw me in and enchant me, but I think it's the emotionally enveloping aspect that is the key lesson to be learned here. If you can find a way to create a complete world that draws in and captivates the observer, you can have a garden, no matter how small the space or limited the palette.
