Waiting....

We are in the final countdown, waiting to hear that Ev has arrived safely in Saigon, South Vietnam. I am staying close to the phone today; I don't want to miss his call.

The first three messages on our answering machine have been there for what seems like forever. Each time there has been a missed call of Ev's from some distant land, we have saved the sound of his voice sending his love. Rather than skip thru them to find our real messages for the day, I always listen to each one, again, treasuring my son's humor, listening to the background noises from far away...and hearing the changes in this maturing young man.

The first one is Ev calling to wish me "Happy Bastille Day" (my birthday) from the salmon factory out on the Alaska Peninsula. The next message carries snarky panic in his voice as he tries to figure out what the *&%# he is going to do as he stands in a northern airport in India far, far away from his waiting entourage in southern India. That call came at 2:14 a.m.; we missed it because we were sleeping. When we found it the next morning and were unable to get ahold of Ev, I starting a slow steam directed toward my husband for ever allowing him to travel by himself. He sensed that I was about to spout, so he placed both his hands on each of my shoulders, looked me in the eyes, and assured me that "he will figure this out."

Ev figured "this" out, but as I recall, there were a couple of panicked phone calls placed by my husband to the Institute where Ev was supposed to land for the semester. The timing was perfect on the third call. The desk attendant announced that Mr. Hudson had just arrived and the celebration on his behalf was commencing. My husband patiently explained that we would like to talk with our son, so we waited as the gentleman ran to retrieve him. Ev came on the line out of breath and full of joy and love. He had arrived safely, tired and hungry; everyone was attending to his every need. "Guys, guys, I am OK....besides there is an elephant at my party and I want to meet him!

The third message arrived on March 17, 2009. I had driven to Iowa City to take my son to lunch, then to the airport in Cedar Rapids so he could spend Spring Break in DC with a high school friend. They were going to go to a political rally on The Mall. When I found this message later that evening, his voice was full of gratefulness. He wanted us to know that he had arrived safely. He also wanted to say thanks for the plane ticket and the extra $$$ I had slipped him for food/cab fare...just in case....and that he had figured out the bus schedule to get to Drew's. "I love you guys."

My husband received a text message on his phone at noon yesterday. Ev was about to board plane #2 for Seoul, South Korea on his way to Vietnam. In his "last purely American act", he had just consumed a MacMeal...food he normally never eats. But then this was not a normal day for him. His departing words, which I am sure Paul will keep on his phone, reads, "And I am off!!!!"

A Mother's Goodbye

This morning at 3:54 a.m. I woke to face this day which has brought both excitement and tears over the last few months. My son Evan is traveling to Saigon, Vietnam to find his adventure after graduating from the University of Iowa this past May.

This last week at school has been grueling and it wore me down physically. Thinking about sending my son to the other side of the planet has worn on me mentally. It has caused such mixed feelings that I have had moments of panic tempered by deep breathing. I have had long conversations with myself that these feelings are perfectly normal 'mother-sending-her-son off' emotions. I have to believe that he will be safe and that this young man will find his most excellent adventure.

Ev is a world traveler. Eighth grade took him to Japan for 10 days to visit our sister city. The summer after his junior year in high school found him in Uganda for a month to build a school in a small village. As a junior at the University of Iowa, he studied abroad for a semester in Mysore, India; he taught in a village school for 3 weeks before he traveled home. Since that first trip to the mountains of Japan, he has wanted to teach English as a second language overseas. This morning we sent our son off to follow his dream.

A lump sits in my throat as I type this. He just turned 22 years old. I watched his back as he approached the ticket counter to check in. He seemed relaxed and ready to go. When he turned, however, I could see both excitement and strain on his face. Once his bag was turned over to the agent, there was no turning back. He spotted me and kind of shrugged with a whimsical look on his face. Pure Ev.

His journey to this world away takes place over 2 days on 3 airlines. He is a world traveler and he has always managed to get to where he needed to be. However, these next 26 hours will be hell until we hear from him....that he has arrived safely, that his determination to embrace this new adventure is intact...and that he is still in possession of his passport and money!

LA401 Lake Delhi Project - Alternative Futures

Another week down. Professor1 mentioned that today completes the 4th week of studio. Yes! This is my last studio in my academic career and I am ready to be done with these 6-credit hour behemoths.

This weekend brings semi-joy. I still have a concept plan to do, but the instruction today from Professor2 mandates that we let go of Concept One and Concept Two and go for something completely different. I am trying, but it is hard to fore-go my values and beliefs. I will make myself explore new territory. We will see. I am envisioning floating homes....house boats, maybe stacked to make condos! This is the last opportunity to go for pie-in-the-sky.

We heard yesterday that the lake district is asking for $9.9 M for a three-phase project of stabilization/restoration/rebuilding for the generation of hydroelectric power. This price tag represents Lake Delhi Recreation Association's pie-in-the-sky and they want the taxpayers to pay for it. OK. The dam's purpose for the last 37 years has been recreation and now they are showcasing this plan as one for clean, green energy production. Things will have to change if the LDRA wants that kind of cash from the government. What needs to happen to satisfy the stakeholders, the taxpayers?

Let's see what happens with Concept Three by Monday. I'll keep you posted.

Hand Drawing YEAH!!!

I have been tethered to my laptop these last few days, working thru the process that comes with tackling assignments...AutoCad drawings for Construction Materials class; a technical report and presentation for studio on Lake Delhi, Delaware County (the dam breach last July, 2010); a 2nd concept plan for the design (it didn't change much from my thinking for the 1st concept plan); and a field trip to Pella, IA to study the site of an historical Dutch village museum. It seems like it has been non-stop since Labor Day. Oh, there were also the two academic papers that needed to be read before Monday and I haven't even started on the assigned readings for my preservation class and construction materials class.

This is when I get crazy. I cannot think straight anymore. I cannot complete a sentence because my mind goes blank mid-thought. It's embarrassing when I am trying to ask a question in class and I just forget. Life should not be this fast-paced. I am too old for this. I am doing it, but I don't like it very much. In fact I resent that the only time I am outside is when I am riding my bike back and forth to campus. It has been a beautiful autumn so far and I want to be in my garden, talking long walks, tromping along Worle Creek!

Well, late this morning, I said enough. I should have been studying for my quiz in Construction Materials, but decided instead to go upstairs to my drafting table and do some sections for my PowerPoint presentation. I get lost behind that table and in a matter of minutes I was feeling great. In fact, it was just what the doctor ordered! Two sections whipped out in about 30 minutes....and I was a new woman.

The topic is not the most captivating...Streambed Ownership in Iowa! But I put my ideas down on the vellum, added some color with the PrismaColor pencils. I think I got my point across graphically.

Stepping Back into My Other Life

Fall classes resumed last Monday and now I can scratch off Week One of my last year in the LA graduate program. I am taking a community design studio and our project for the semester will evaluate and offer alternative design scenarios that address the Lake Delhi dam breach that occurred July 24, 2010. The implications of that disaster are all over the map both figuratively and literally. The earthen spillway blew out after unprecedented rainfall in the Maquoketa River watershed and now there is once again a visible river flowing in its channel where, for the last 80 years, there was a 9-mile long lake.

This past Friday three vehicles headed down the road carrying my studio-mates, two professors, me, and a trailerful of bikes to the project site to experience this altered landscape. We listened to stories, attended a formal presentation, and wandered the backroads searching for clues that might inform a design solution to offer these folks who are lost without their landmark waterbody, Lake Delhi.

Having taken several classes in hydrology and stream study, I found the natural course claimed by the water of the Maquoketa River fascinating, aside from the devastating loss of home and property. Water knows where it wants to be and it goes there. This truism was never more obvious to me as when I stood on the bridge that looked out over the newly formed sandbars dotted with broken boats, their twisted hoists, and other floodwater debris half-buried along and in the now visible river channel.

It was a long day with lots to take in. I was tired when we arrived back at the College of Design...not only physically, but in a world-weary way. I wonder when we as a society will learn to live with the forces of Mother Nature, to become more adaptable to her ways, and be done with this thinking that building bigger, taller, and stronger will dominate and tame. We only end up with a larger pile of debris to clear and a more expensive tab. Enough said.

I am also taking a construction class which should prove interesting. A failed attempt to install AutoCAD on my laptop brought it to its knees. The operating system crashed and I was without a computer for several days. Aside from that technical glitch, the content of the course will be an overview of materials...wood, concrete, stone, and metals. I love the idea of color, texture, and finish, so this should be a fun class.

I am taking a graduate seminar in preservation...a sister course to the one offered last semester. I enjoyed that class, so I am looking forward to our study site of Pella, IA and the Dutch heritage museum grounds there.

I will be backing off the thesis research and writing this next semester....only 1 credit to keep my toe in the water. I am thankful that I did the road trips this past summer so I could get that experience on the ground to better understand the turn-of-the-century Midwestern rural cemetery. Also, I stayed on top of my readings, so that has taken off the pressure this semester. I look forward to the actual writing of the cultural landscape report and treatment plan for Oak Hill Cemetery in Cedar Rapids, IA, which will happen over the next year. : |

So, today I clear the drafting table of the piles of books and papers from this past summer's research. I will work with pen and colored pencils to create a concept plan with both graphics and narrative to begin my process for the Lake Delhi project.

Cancer Horoscope for week of August 19, 2010

This would be an excellent time for you to get aggressively inventive about your education. It wouldn't be too crazy, in my opinion, to launch your own school, with you as the only student. You could design your own course curriculum for the coming years. Decide who your teachers will be. Think about where you can get the stuff you'll need to expand your mind, enhance your skills, and just plain increase your intelligence. You could call your center of higher learning the University of Wily Exuberance or the Academy of Astonishing Grace or the Institute of Getting Down to Business.

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Horoscope for This Week

Here's a thought from the Cancerian philosopher Gaston Bachelard: "He who listens to the singing of the stream cannot be expected to understand the one who hears the singing of the flame: They do not speak the same language." While I mostly agree with that poetic formulation, I think you're about to be a temporary exception to the rule. Normally you are acutely attuned to the singing of the stream; your skill at reading its nuances are supreme among the zodiac. But I expect that in the coming days, you will not only have the power to appreciate the song of the fire; you'll even be able to empathize with and understand people who are entranced by the song of the fire.

Composer Robert Schuman had long dialogues with his imaginary friends, Florestan and Eusebius, who provided valuable ideas for his musical scores. W.S. Merwyn wrote a poem in which he recounted the counsel of his teacher John Berryman: "He suggested I pray to the Muse / get down on my knees and pray / right there in the corner and he/ said he meant it literally."

Conjure up an imaginary friend and have an intimate conversation with him or her.

Our Man Horace

Any and every one who knows me currently...or reads this blog...is aware that I have started work on my thesis. Last spring semester there was lots of back and forth with my major professor, reading and talking about what I would do for this part of my graduate training.

Once this fundamental piece of the process was in place, I was ready to take the next step. My thesis will be a cultural landscape report and treatment plan for Oak Hill Cemetery (OHC) in Cedar Rapids, Iowa. This 'rural' cemetery was designed by HWS Cleveland in 1869. I made the decision to invest my time this summer doing the footwork (as in on the ground) required of a researcher. I kicked off my adventure by traveling to Cedar Rapids and sleuthing the libraries there...the Masonic Library and the Linn County Genealogical Library. Then I attended a state preservation workshop in Clinton, IA. The first week of June I set off on the Mother of all Road Trips to visit those cemeteries that influenced and those which were graced with HWS Cleveland's beautiful design aesthetic. From Iowa to Illinois, then to Indiana and Ohio, I traveled a road that led me into and thru this background of cemetery history. These Midwestern cemetery visits numbered in the teens. There was lots to experience on the ground and so much to think about for my work that lay ahead.

I have also spent considerable time in front of the laptop, in my pj's all day, searching turn-of-the-century newspaper articles (Thanks! newspaperarchives.com) sleuthing for old fotos and text in an attempt to piece together OHC history. I've been back to Cedar Rapids, this time pestering City Hall for crisp aerial fotos of the cemetery site. I have been gathering and studying reports and maps, but finding very few historical photographs!, that might help to piece together a thoughtful approach for the treatment of this ever-changing landscape.

A second road trip found me zipping around Quincy, Illinois. Cleveland was commissioned to design Madison Park at 24th and Main. It was an old burial ground slated to become a public park close to the turn of the century. When I google-earthed the present-day park, it was remarkable that I was able to trace the barely-visible original walkways he laid out in his 1891 plan. Then in 1896, he submitted a design for Riverview Park as part of an extensive connected park system for the Quincy Boulevard and Park Association. After my visit to the Old Soldier's Home, an integral part of his boulevard plan, I came away with a nagging suspicion that Cleveland and Son (Ralph Dwinel joined his father's firm in 1892) might have designed the grounds there also. In a article I found online from a 1893 Quincy newspaper, Col. Fogg of the Home wanted a 'landscape scientist' to have a look at the grounds to try to get a handle on all that Nature had taken over. The grounds certainly carry the signature of our man Horace.

A third day-trip sent me pounding down I-35, then out on I-70 to Topeka and Junction City, Kansas. It was the hottest day of the year. The car thermometer registered 105 degrees, but it was now or never for me to get there...and back. An 1871 working plan by Cleveland laid out the grounds of the State Capitol in Topeka. Even tho the roads and pathways of the circulation plan were never laid down as designed, his planting arrangements are evident. Some of the old trees encircling the block and standing in groves and allees reveal his vision for this space.

My next stop was Highland Cemetery in Junction City, Kansas, the destination for this 12-hour road trip. Cleveland designed this cemetery in 1870, one year after laying out the grounds for Oak Hill Cemetery in Cedar Rapids. I wanted to compare and contrast this design with the one back in Iowa. Not at all what I expected. No mausoleums. No great monuments. Hot. Dry. Grass thatch left in rows along the markers. Lots of beautiful Austrian Pines, tho. Healthy Austrian Pines....designed placement of Austrian Pines. His work still lives on in these ancient trees staged for great effect.....my constant effort in my professional practice is to create landscapes which may excite in others minds the emotions which similar scenes awaken in my own....HWS Cleveland.

This past weekend I traveled to the Twin Cities with a good friend from the academic world to explore Cleveland's work in Mpls/STP. Some say HWS Cleveland found the most acclaim, quite late in life, here in the Twin Cities. This recognition grew not only from his site designs, but more importantly from his planning skills on a urban/regional scale in laying out the extensive park system in the Cities. Early on, he championed this landscape with its riparian topography and vegetation. His greenbelt plans laid down a protective design before this unique and precious resource was lost forever.

Cleveland also designed two cemeteries in the Twin Cities. We visited both. Heading across town, we stepped thru the back door of the Hennepin History Museum to view four original Cleveland plans of several parks throughout the city. They took my breath away! So very beautiful in their simple design. The colors used to render these final plans were subdued with age, but the spiky darkened green graphic employed to suggest evergreen trees brought these old drawings to life. As I traced with my finger the roads and pathways of the plans, each cradled within their protective sheaths, I could only imagine this old man working thru his process to lay down on paper an informed design that would speak to someone 120 years later.

Next, we were off to visit Lakewood Cemetery. This burial landscape was designed by Adolph Strauch whose fame grew because of his visionary work at Spring Grove Cemetery in Cincinnati, OH. Horace had nothing to do with the planting of trees or shrubbery here, the laying out of roads and walkways or the grassy swales that guided water away from the graves. But curiously, Horace William Shaler Cleveland was laid to rest here in 1900. He and his loved ones are interred in graves that went unmarked for years. It was almost 50 years before someone decided Horace Cleveland needed a proper gravestone.

His six family members are buried along side in a lot measuring 15 x 20 ft...four plots for ashes, three for gravesites. There is no stone monument chiseled with the family name Cleveland. The green lawn offers up a single, flush marker inscribed with a few words about Horace's landscape vision for the Twin Cities...nothing about who he was as a man. He had moved his office to Minneapolis from Chicago in 1886, looking for a change. The Lakewood Cemetery records reveal he purchased this family lot that same year. His youngest son Ralph Dwinel briefly held the position of superintendent of the cemetery. So maybe he did offer a suggestion or two in the form of a sketch, or a word, during his son's short tenure at Lakewood Cemetery. He invested his hard-earned money in 300 square feet of precious ground. He must have loved this very spot!


HWS Cleveland lies in the shade of an massive Bur Oak, Quercus macrocarpa. Mossycup acorns pelt his stone marker. A Norway Spruce, Picea abies, frames the view down the hill and over to the Chapel. He is planted smack in the center of this beautiful designed landscape. He must have stood here one day long ago and envisioned a more mature landscape enveloping this spot where he would lie for eternity with his loved ones. This was also where he and his wife suffered thru the burial of their eldest son Richard J. He would have walked upon this same ground the day he buried his beloved wife Mary Dwinel.

My pilgrimage to the graveside of this most humble landscape designer was a deliberate act to wrap up my summer of exploration and inspiration. My passion for this project has grown leaps and bounds as I have uncovered who this man might have been by reading his personal correspondence, his essays and lectures, and studying his design plans. I have also read and studied what others have written about him. I am ready to offer to the academic world and beyond a thoughtful and coherent portrait of the design intent of Oak Hill Cemetery which Horace W. S. Cleveland laid out in the NE qtr. of Sec 27 of Rapids Township in Linn County, Iowa.

The Floodplain

If one picture is worth a thousand words, then the fotos above are worth thousands and I have to wonder what words come to the minds of the general population when viewing the flooded areas around Ames? These fotos were taken early Wednesday morning after I received an automated call around 4:30 AM. This alert emanated from the city offices warning the residents of the neighborhoods throughout Ames of dangerously rising waters in both Squaw Creek and the Skunk River, each cutting their swath through opposite sides of our fair city.

I brewed my coffee, then headed out with the dog to see what I could see. The recorded message referred to this flood episode as record-breaking, comparing it to The Flood of 1993. Luckily, I live on the upland overlooking the river and its floodplain on the west side of town, so my feet were dry when I took in the view. The water was high, yes, but what caught my attention was the traffic that was circling, trying to find safe passage into and out of town given the rising floodwaters. This was a busy place, my neighborhood, for so early, early in the morning. I noticed a few cars which turned onto the street that headed downhill into the rising water. These folks wanted a closer look at the 'natural' event taking place out the windshield of their vehicle.

On my walk back to the house, I decided to do a quick check of the sump pump...just to make sure it was doing its job. I could hear water falling into the sump pit, then the quiet hum of the motor as it flushed the contents of the barrel into the stormwater line. I knew that where this water was going was only adding to the torrent of muddy floodwater I had already witnessed sweeping across the landscape at the bottom of hill.

Around 11, I ventured back to the flooded parking lot/athletic complex to check on the water level. The scene I took in stopped me in my tracks. It wasn't the water so much as it was all the vehicles parked along the street and the people activity on the hill. It was a curious sight. It reminded me of the cardinal red and gold tailgating that happens most Saturdays during football season. Only it was happening around a glistening body of water dotted with floating Ky-Bo's and Iowa State tent tops billowing in the rush of water.

This is what I wondered. Do any of these people realize the forces of water? Do they comprehend what these floodwaters are all about? Do they understand what it is that is causing this very natural act, this disturbance, that turns so destructive to our efforts in the planning and building of our communities? This day seemed to be entertainment for the masses. Everyone held cell phone and digital cameras above their heads trying to capture the expansive wet landscape in this very soggy moment in Ames history. But really, were they comprehending that how we chose to build and live on the land is causing this sort of event that, along the way, wastes our precious financial resources.

Water knows where it wants to be and it goes there. Pretty straight forward. Seemingly simple. We can try to dominate with more fill, higher levees, stronger dams, but we should really take a longer look at that rush of water spilling over parking lots, thru commercial buildings, or into our basements. It would help us understand that when we build in the floodplain with the idea that we can 'catch and convey' our stormwater worries away, we are asking for trouble. When we pave over our soils to accommodate our vehicles, we are setting up a system whereby we shunt torrents of water that carry pollutants, sediment, and garbage into our creeks and streams. Nothing can stop the force of water and yet we continue to ignore what Mother Nature is showing us. If fact, we make it easy for this liquid force of nature the tear down and ruin what we try to build.

Feast or famine. Most of the time these waterways barely carry any water. But when an unprecedented amount of rain falls in one specific area which happens to be the watersheds for two usually lazy rivers in Ames, all hell breaks loose. Water knows where it wants to be and it does go there.

from Another Gardener's Bed-Book, 1933

August 8th...Ancient Nudism. It is all very modern to claim that sun-bathing is a product of our own era, yet the ancient poets were always having their lady loves dance diaphanously across the mead and maidens go out at dawn (I suspect in their night-gowns, as one of our guests did once, to the shocked surprise of a dignified father-in-law) to gather fresh dew for a cosmetic. The modern school of nudist poetry not yet having risen, permit me to quote these two lines of intimate loveliness written by Michael Drayton in the 16th century:

A world to see, yet how he joyed to heare
The dainty grasse make musicke with her feete.