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once been a little farm there,
with a strong well. After years
of hard work shaping and cul-
tivating the earth, that little
stretch of north desert has
been utterly transformed, as
though a piece of Savannah,
GA retired and decided to
move to Texas.
The first thing you see
upon entering the gardens
through the main gate is a
broad, trickling fountain, the
music of which telegraphs a
sense of opulence. Merry
splashing, purely for the sake
of aesthetics, speaks to the
wealth of the place—in the
desert, as in any ecosystem,
growth (and survival) is limited
by that resource in least sup-
ply. The presence of water cir-
culating through a broad pool
of granite, playing for the most
part to an audience of birds
and lazy wasps, sends a clear
message here.
The fountain sits at the
head of a long, broad mall,
ending in an elaborate bird-
cage gazebo of wrought iron.
Many happy couples have
said their vows here, and cele-
brated on the green lawns
with their stately urns of flow-
ers. The overall effect is lush
and formal, something which
might be common in the land
of green southern estates. It is
lovely and dignified.
But following the paths past
the stately formality of the
entrance, they begin to wiggle
and turn, folding in on them-
selves to give the gardens an
appearance of being much
larger than they really are.
There is the orchard, where
peaches, plums and apples
ripen for the picking; you can
help yourself to as many as
you can eat on the premises.
✧
D
The plums reach over the
cedar fence dividing the path
from the orchard, tempting
the visitor with low-hanging
fruit. Each season has its
bounty, and the apples espe-
cially are a treat, as few vari-
eties grow and flourish so well
in this area.
Passing the little nine-hole
golf course, where my daugh-
ters like to play their own
bizarre version of capture the
flag, the gardens spread out to
the south into a wide field with
a walking path around the
perimeter. Little bridges arch
over the grassy spillways
where water flows in the rainy
times, and up at the eastern-
most border of the gardens a
small pond offers a pleasant
resting place for the stroller or
jogger.
But my favorite section of
the gardens is the place where
the glassy paths meander
around the central pool,
where tall trees and native
plants hide the walkway from
itself. Little placards inform
the visitors of what species
flourish there. Stone follies,
like ghost town ruins, hide the
pumps and electrical boxes.
An old water tank on a brick
platform, covered in flowering
green growth, creates nooks
and crannies and little mead-
ows bordered by secret flowers
and the occasional surprise
fruit tree. Benches and flag-
stone steps and shortcut paths,
shady miniature forests and
lush green lawns in carefully
shaped swales imbue the visi-
tor with a sense of mystery and
a bent for exploration.
The presence of water
draws desert creatures, espe-
cially since Marathon is an
important migration stop for
many species of birds and
insects. The monarch butter-
flies grace us in their thou-
sands, clustering to rest in the
e rt
cool safety of the trees, cover-
ing acres like a fluttering
orange blanket. In the spring
and fall, migrating flocks avail
themselves of the ecosystem
that man made. It’s easy to sit
quietly with a pair of field
glasses and scan the branches.
It feels like a reminder that
nature is always waiting in the
wings, to reclaim our careful
edifices.
I don’t always know how I
feel about the gardens. They
are beautiful, especially in
relation to the natural land-
scape, if only by contrast.
They are meticulously kept
and brilliantly designed. The
greenhouses that supply veg-
etables and decorative plants
for the main hotel grounds are
admirable. I love to bring my
children there to run around
and explore, to see and touch
their lushness and pick fruit. I
love to go there myself and be
reminded of what a green
world smells like. The riots of
color and texture and light
and shade are restful in the
desert world, and stimulating.
But there’s also that sense
of opulence that nags at the
corners of my mind, the ques-
tion of the wise use of
resources whose true limits are
unknown. The question is
about the value, and the cost,
of beauty, and it’s a difficult
one to answer. The Gage
Gardens are generous, are
open for all to enjoy; they pro-
vide food for the soul as well as
the body. They are valuable,
for the hotel and for the com-
munity. There is a cost there
as well, but it’s one whose bal-
ance is very difficult to calcu-
late, especially when I’m lying
in the grass with the trickle of
water in my ears, and those
sun dapples playing on my
face.
O aeie F Or e al
✧
10.5 quiet, secluded acres in Casa Piedra, one hour south of Marfa.
Adobe house, artesians well, garden space, shop, carport and studio.
C ontACt L Auren M eAder F owLkes , r eALtor At F Ar w est t exAs r eALty : 432.295.2849
Cenizo
Fourth Quarter 2016
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