Not too long ago I wrote, ‘Becoming a landscape architect is like walking an unknown path in a strange forest. You know someone has walked it before, so you have some confidence. Then the path disappears. You have to make your own path and you don’t really know where you are going. You must decide—forge ahead or go back.’
In one way or another, it is something we all face…
…a real life mystery that can be solved only with the passage of time and the taking of hard decisions.
We all have to take hard decisions in our lifetime.
1943 or 2001?
Sixty years later, not in the Casablanca of French Morocco–but in Tangier, the international heart of Morocco–we are in Tangier Gardens.
In Tangier Gardens, CJ is immersed in an enthralling saga. He is lost in a place non-different from the haunts of Claude Rains and Humphrey Bogart; and he is disoriented. To keep his appointment with destiny, he has to take some hard decisions.
That’s just one of his many challenges. In this foreign landscape, CJ finds a culture whose roots run deep into West Africa, North Africa and the Arabian Peninsula.
He wants to become a landscape architect. He has to make his own path. And the medinas? CJ, trapped in the Tangier medina, finds those labyrinthine paths full of adventure…and despair. The excitement and danger confuse what CJ had thought was a certain destiny.
Who would have thought that the only existential clarity that CJ finds in Tangier would come from the plants and gardens of eccentric British and Russian horticulturists?
Looking for something? First job? New job? The last time I was looking for a job…
Looking for something? Need to put food on the table?
I had an open field. I had a level playing field. But…no job.
No result. In the distance I saw a forest—a well-known forest, everyone knows it, it’s the forest known as the ‘can’t tell the forest from the trees’ forest. I’d been there many times. But I needed a job, so I walked toward it.
That’s when something strange happened. I was pushing my way through a shrub thicket between the field and the forest when I heard… it wasn’t a voice; it wasn’t music… but something in between. I paused and examined the surrounding shrubs. One caught my attention.
Did I hear something?
It was still winter, but this shrub had flowers. I had heard of it before in my horticulture classes. In Latin I learned its name—Hamamelis virginiana. But it’s common name intrigued—witch hazel. I looked deeply into the bright yellow spindly flowers. Woody citric scent that had a floating sweetness with rusty tinges. The strange sweetness pulled me closer to one flower—as I examined—I heard what I should do to get my job; but I didn’t know it yet.
Flower fragrances—can they hypnotize? That’s how I felt as I walked home. I went online to do some research. Hamamelis sp. — a lot of them—virginiana, vernalis, intermedia and a slew of hybrids in the US. And the common name—witch hazel. Witch hazel? I did more research and learned that this plant had a long history of medicinal uses—the leaves, the stems, the seeds, the bark—the list of uses was too long to follow.
Botany–the ethnobotanical threshold.
That was before I saw a cross reference, a link to… I never thought about it—Druidry! The native Americans and the European Celtics—the druids—had another range of uses. Uses that never were covered in my university horticulture studies.
Before I knew it, I was deep into reading about the Hamamelis sacred tree profile and its magic, medicine, and mythology. Deep. I was in deep! Liniments, poultices, teas… and other uses smoking, dowsing, water witching and way-finding.
Way-finding caught my attention because I was looking for a way to find my next job. Was I on some kind of BS coincidence or was I really on the threshold of a new path—a new journey?
That is what I was thinking while I read more. ‘Witch hazel brings light and hope into dark places and dark times. Witch hazels help find things.’ My research told me that this shrub is important to work with if I am on a journey, seeking a new path, or trying to find my way through uncertain times.
‘Work with’ a plant? What the hell does that mean? Should I even take that seriously?
I went back outside and walked once again through the thicket of witch hazel on the edge of the forest. Without trying, I found myself next to the Hamamelis flower that, if I was to use my new language, the flower that tried to work with me.
What did I sense… something touching my heart? Time for a new path, a new job.
Writing—writing? There is a lot of time and space and energy between landscape architecture and druidry, yet both work daily with plants. As I mulled through the differences, as I examined the gulf, I saw they well equipped me to write about it.
Then I wrote Tangier Gardens. I set up CJ as a traditional landscape architecture university student who had a fondness for plants. But when he went to Tangier for his term abroad design study, he encountered experiences in the north west African landscape that caused him to re-evaluate what was the essence of landscape architecture.
CJ had to re-think the relations between human culture and the landscape. He had to rethink the existential realities that linked humans and plants.
Was CJ a landscape architect or a druid? That is for readers to decide as they follow CJ’s Tangier experience. Learn more about Tangier Gardens and CJ on my Amazon book page.
Original 17th century Wenceslaus Hollar view of Tangier harbour post-processed by flahertylandscape.
CJ was coming of age and he was lost. He had wanted to get absorbed in a different culture. The labyrinth had captured him. In his despair he turned to his oldest friend, a girl with whom he had been growing for the past six years. And she became his strength. Though separated from CJ by thousands of miles, she lit his path to clarity.
Tangier Gardens. Launching March 2022. Notification of details and discounts here.
CJ had visited Morocco once before. A long time ago . He was with his Mom. And he was only six. They spent three months on the beaches of Essaouira; but they never visited Tangier.
Now 20 years later he was on his way to Tangier. He thought he knew Morocco.
Geographic information science says life is raster and even if you make it vector, the closer you examine the more it becomes raster–so we do our best.
Can you see it on the images? Snow is white, forest is black. Where is the ‘snow line‘?
We don’t have those North American attention grabbing sugar maples or even their cousins around here.
Rising out of the butterscotch sea. From the lower valley pastures to the mid mountain mixed deciduous and evergreen up to the near mountain summit pure coniferous forests. Autumn calls.Some might say how drab! Yellows and browns. C’mon man. But honestly…these yellows and browns in our landscape offer something more…a flavor…a sweetness. A pleasurable sweetness. A lasting enjoyment that comes…from a flavor to a taste…to become softly in our ear…a kind word. Extrasensual.I like it–like a butterscotch candy…the flavor lasts and lasts.
The Landscape Architect is the title of a series of fictional autobiographies. These are CJ’s autobiographies. In this series, CJ reveals the twists and turns in the development of his career as a professional landscape architect via his interactions with cultures, landscapes, gardens and plants of the world—where the unexpected and downright strange become daily facts of life.
When you dig intoTangier Gardens, you will find a contemporary coming of age action novel about CJ (Christopher Janus), who like us is facing a broad range of distressing challenges.
CJ needs a break. He has been busting his hump full time six years at university with one more class till graduation.
He wanted just a few moments of repose before getting on with his career.
Didn’t happen. We all sadly know that story. But how did CJ deal with it? Tangier Gardens is that story.
CJ, studying landscape architecture, is into pedestrian towns and warm sandy beaches. For his last class, a term abroad design study, he’s on his way to Tangier, a town with sandy beaches on the Med and a historical pedestrian district, the medina.
However, crossing the Strait of Gibraltar and landing in Tangier immediately upsets his planned easy observe-and-check-the-box design study. He is thrown off balance and he has to start all over from scratch–no more easy study.
With Andalusian legacies, languorous gardens, Moroccan markets and ancient medinas, Tangier Gardens brings Mediterranean life to the armchair traveler.
If you are:
-A nature lover, into urban gardening or a landscape architecture aficionado;
-Curious about all things green–the environment, plants, gardens, landscape;
-Intrigued about the North African multi-cultural, mystical history of people and plants, then
Tangier Gardens is my debut novel in the series The Landscape Architect. Is the landscape CJ’s worst enemy or is he his own worst enemy? Can he design his way out of this conundrum? Could coming of age be more awkward?
I can not turn away from my evergreen source of inspiration. It is a landscape that continuously surprises me with its overwhelming awe, its raw power and a beauty that leaves me speechless —harmonic beauty. And it always makes me ask questions–about transportation infrastructure, water resources, land management. I love it. Refreshing it is.
The big, broad spreading beech. These are very uncomfortable times. Do I fight or become a medical experiment? We all have that choice, or do we? I take walks–and I find shelter–like this beech tree on a river bank. It says shelter. Relief. Relief? Relief from what? Why do I need shelter? Twenty months of health statistics anomalies. And I haven’t seen anyone collapse on the street since that Wuhan play actor almost two years ago. Yet everything I read or see on TV says I should be part of big pharma/political experiments. Yeah, I need relief. And yeah, that beech tree offered it. I looked long, hard and lovingly at that strong beech and its broad spreading protective canopy. I felt the shelter; and for a long moment I felt relief from the non-stop tyrannical tensions.I pushed on. I walked further and further and became awestruck. A landscape vista worked its magic on me. The beauty so overwhelmed that I needed to sit. Dizzy with beauty I had become. More relief–this time with inspiration.
I had to re-post this because it sings in my heart–source of evergreen inspiration.
Edelwyss-Starnen sing the last verse of Mys Alpli. High in the Berner Oberland, an alp is a field, a pasture, a productive piece of mountain land where animals can be grazed. Thus in the background of this you can hear the bells of the sheep, goats and cows. Available at itunes.apple.com/us/artist/jodelg…rnen/id329166348
Mid July in the Berner Oberland Jungfrau Region–it is that time of year when the highest alps receive the animals for the ‘spring’ grasses.
I met a researcher in a Stubbe last week. He was researching linkages between humans and the landscape. He shared with me the following photos of yodelers.
Yodelers in the Jungfrau Region of the Berner Oberland in Switzerland–in the yodel, a human can hear and feel the landscape.
Yodelers demonstrate their respect for the landscape in all aspects of their lives–arts, crafts–and the richness of the detail recalls the richness of their feelings for the landscape. Stewards, custodians of the landscape–that is only the beginning in the Jungfrau Region of the Berner Oberland.
He noted that these yodelers are not hired professionals or foreign workers. They are humans whose families have lived in this landscape for centuries.
He posited that there are rootlets of some strange consistency that transcend the lifetimes of humans. Those rootlets, he said, were channels through which a music travels from the landscape through the voices of the yodelers.
Each verse of a song glorifies a different aspect of the relationship between humans and the landscape. And each chorus…well…the chorus is the landscape.
