lize what is important. The Sunken Gardens, tucked away in the middle of our bustling city, provide a glimpse of peaceful beauty. E.M. Bair, the park superintendent during the development of the Gardens, led the building project. Inscribed in the roof of the visitor’s dome is Bair’s message: “I expect to make this spot the most beautiful place in the city.”Indeed, the Sunken Gardens comprise a beautiful space. Lining the concrete steps that are first visible upon entering the garden sway enormous forest green leaves shading beds of tangled greenery that resembles the putting green of a golf course. Tucked beneath the leaves are perfectly trimmed bushes of Coleus, a variety of tiny red, green and violet flowers. Further up the steps, tall green stems extend large purple puffball
flowers, much like a magnified dandelion just waiting for a youngster to blow the flowers’ seeds in every direction. Beneath these giants lie full bush plants with leaves of green tinged with brick red; the sunlight causes a fiery reflection. Upward, the September sky is overtaken by leaves of yellows, browns and reds. The impact of fall is evident as fallen leaves whirl around the feet of visitors.Looking down one of the many worn red brick paths throughout the gardens, tall stone ledges enclose a variety of native grasses, a scene much like that of an open pasture. A small po
nd in the center of the gardens is especially intriguing; the brick path leads directly there. A distinct fishy smell can be detected in the near proximity of the pond. Beneath lily-pads sprouting pink and yellow flowers swim black-spotted goldfish of every size, and a young boy giggle and point as he watches “the fishies.” He is so easily entertained; happiness comes so naturally from such a simple sight. The scene has such a fairy-tale feel, one could almost expect talking frogs to appear from underneath their lily-pad homes.The boy’s father scoops him up, and disappointment to see them walk away shows in the faces of visitors smiling at the interaction. Fortunately, another pair of visitors is approaching the pond. An adult woman patiently wheels around an elderly woman in her wheelchair, possibly her mother or even grandmother. The woman is carefully wheeled right up
to the water's edge, a smile shining on her face. With her exaggerated pink blush and poufy white hair, she is quite a sight. She’s a cute little lady, a “typical” grandmother. She watches the fish play, smiling with the same innocence as the young boy. It is obvious that these individuals, perhaps three generations between them, are quite similar. They know beauty when they see it; they are quite content with simplicity. Both are perfectly content with the company of their loved ones. One has likely not yet seen the distortion society can put on defining beauty; the other has been a part of that society for a long time and has grown wise as she grew old.The wheelchair woman and care-giver begin to wheel away and once again onlookers are left with a loss of show. A large fish jumps up and back down into the pond with a splash, and a few cool water droplets spray surprised visitors. In this relaxed atmosphere, they simply laugh at the situation. They must find it’s enjoyable to be in the presence of these simple pleasures, to succumb their worries. So much simple happiness can be found in the faces of these visitors; it seems a kind of different world from outside the gardens. Why does our society put so much emphasis on physical beauty, on how pretty a face is instead of character? Why is it so hard for so many of us to find happiness, when in reality we do not have to look very far at all?
A few meters east of the pond, a brilliant collection of flowers in shades of whites and creams comprise th
e Healing Garden. Creamy white butter and sugar iris are scattered throughout the area, their greenish-yellow veins leading down to the vines that create the bedding of this exhibit. Among them, white Blushing Bride hydrangeas with a pink tinge and Alba foxglove, creamy with bell-like flowers, are scattered. It is not difficult to see why this is deemed the healing garden; one could easily find themselves searching for spiritual or emotional healing in the midst of this calming garden.The winding brick path leads away from the Healing Garden. Into many of the bricks is the phrase “In memory of…” and names of loved once lost. A large collection of names, it is obvious many saw the importance of creating a memory of lost loved ones in such a remarkable place. A short ways off the path, the wheelchair woman “parks” in front of a small babbling waterfall. The younger woman reads a sign describing the waterfall, and the elder listens intently as she watches the water splash through the stone and down into the pond. A small pair of purple Minnie Mouse san
dals tossed carelessly near the bottom of the waterfall stand out, the owner nowhere in sight. In the distance, a young girl can be heard: “Mommy! Mother! Come here!” A young, barefoot Japanese girl skips toward the waterfall, swinging a small twig in her hand. Two large, swamp green cement frogs “guard” the waterfall on either side, similar to the large limestone lions that can sometimes be seen at driveway entrances. The water splashes over huge rocks; black and green plants scattered among the rocks are hammered on by the pounding water but prove tougher than the force. At the water’s edge, purple hydrangeas sway in the breeze created by the rushing water. Further away from the water, among the ledges of the stairs, tiny red and yellow ornamental pepper plants are scattered.My mind drifts to the wonder of such a marvelous place, right among us, where visitors can put away their worries and be truly content in their surroundings. Though horns honk and tires skid in the distance, the reality I am facing right now is still, simple and beautiful. Are the owners of those honking horns rushing off to a busy workplace in attempt to make money that never truly satisfies? Do the drivers behind those skidding tires ever slow down, ever look at what is truly important in their lives?
I walk down the brick path that I have grown so fond of to make my way out of the garden. I am reluctant to leave and know I could spend much more time here, but I too fall in to society’s busy trap. As I pull away, I'm aware that I am leaving this beautiful place but that it is not leaving me. Pulling out into busy traffic, I am again part of this busy society that cannot blink for a moment of peacefulness, for a glimpse of simple beauty. It has become quite obvious to me that natural beauty, be it inside or out, is a direct link to happiness that is so often chased in the maze
of beauty products and weight loss ads that are supposed to make us happy. Though this area is a beautiful place, we do not have to be surrounded by visual beauty to be happy, we simply have to surround ourselves with those who mean the most in our lives. Perhaps Mr. Bair’s intentions of the Sunken Gardens went deeper than just a beautiful place in the city. Indeed, he gave us that, but perhaps he was well aware of the aspects of life that create true happiness, and wanted to give us a glimpse of this. Maybe he foresaw children giggling over the fishies while their parents relaxed in the shade. Maybe he knew that this small section of magnificence tucked away in the midst of the city would provide a place for the young and old alike to smile at the simple wonders of life, perfectly content with the company and surroundings they are in. The impact the gardens had on me was larger than expected, and I find I am hopeful that I am not the only one to walk away with more appreciation for the things in life that truly create happiness. Perhaps if more of our society could see through the money, looks, and popularity that are “supposed” to create happiness, perhaps if more caught a glimpse of true beauty in the simple wonders of life, our world would be a more beautiful, more enjoyable place to live.
