There are two water features in the bonsai garden. This entry is about the one that has water in it.

In the top level of the Bonsai Exhibition Garden is a small pool with a large rock perched above it. Water bubbles up out of the rock, travels downward over the rock's flat face and falls with a splash into the pool. The water falls ceaselessly day and night all through the year. This simple water feature provides ambiance for the garden’s upper plaza through liquid movement and sound, while attracting a variety of wildlife. Frogs live there and toads mate there. Squirrels scurry by for a drink and birds bathe in the water gurgling atop the rock as though it were a Jacuzzi put there for that very purpose. Snakes slither by scouting for other creatures who might be distractedly sipping, and who can say what nightlife at the pool might be like.

People are attracted to moving water, as well. The sound is soothing, the play of light glinting off its surface can be mesmerizing. Few visitors pass through the upper plaza without being drawn to the water feature. They stand at the railing and watch the water flow, tracing its path over the big rock, roaming with their eyes through the miniature jungle of green growth luxuriating in the moist micro-climate around the pool. It's shady standing there with the big heart-shaped purple leaves of the Forest Pansy redbud tree arching overhead. The coolness of the space is inviting on a hot summer day. Signage nearby names the water feature as representing a Mountain Spring, telling the timeless tale of water's journey from a little pool in the mountains across hundreds of miles to finally meld with the vast expanse of the ocean. This little feature works familiar bonsai territory — the suggestion, in simple strokes, of something greater, calling upon the imagination of the viewer to make the connection. In the mind's eye of the visitor standing at the railing, the little splash of water may bring them back to the seclusion of a forest retreat. In an instant of awareness there bubbles up appreciation of a miraculous, transparent, shape-shifting substance, without which all life as we know it would cease to exist.

Not everyone sees it that way. A few folks seem to be more engaged by the puzzle of how water emerges from the top of the big rock. Sometimes they ask me about that and before I tell them I ask if they really want to know. After all, doesn't it spoil a magician's trick if you know the mechanics of how it's done? How is your imagination supposed to work if you're focused on plumbing? So take this as a spoiler alert, before I tell you there is a recirculating system powered by a pump hidden nearby. Water is pulled out of the pool via an intake port under a flat stone at the pool’s bottom, then sent by means of the pump through a hose that runs behind the big rock, then on top of the big rock through a channel that is covered by another smaller rock, before daylighting through two orifices. Instead of the wondrous majesty of the sun-powered sky-to-mountains-to-sea-to-sky journey of the actual water cycle, there is only a mundane recycling of water through several feet of plastic hose, powered by an electric pump. Sorry for any disillusionment. But if your imagination is good, you should still be able to enjoy the Mountain Spring next time you see it.

Landing the big, heavy rock on the prepared pad at the base of the stone turret took great skill on the part of the forklift operator. If the rock hit the turret damage would surely occur. If the rock was not set on the pad with precision the result would be unstable and unsafe. Great was the relief of all involved when the tricky landing was successfully accomplished on the first attempt.

Once the big rock was in place, the contractor’s crew immediately set to work constructing the rest of the stonework.

2005 - The *Mountain Spring* completed but without water, seen just prior to landscape installation.

The following images show the Mountain Spring feature in 2008, after three years of establishment for the surrounding landscape:

This image from early in 2009 shows what happens with the water feature during periods of intense cold. The movement of the water prevents it from freezing entirely solid:

Also in 2009, a kick plate was added to the base of the railing in front of the water feature. This proved necessary in order to protect the plantings from being damaged by the wayward feet of children:

At this point the landscape around the Mountain Spring had come into its own:

Late in 2009 an intense cold snap was accompanied by a snowfall that knocked out power to the Arboretum for several days. With the recirculation pump no longer working, the Mountain Spring water feature froze solid. No damage occurred to the lining of the pool, but when the water eventually thawed three bloated bullfrogs bobbed to the surface:

The gallery below shows selected scenes from a particularly pretty spring in 2010 (click on any image for full view):

2010

Continuing problems with damage to plantings in proximity to the pool prompted further enhancements to the protective barrier out front of the feature early in 2011:

Autumn views, 2011 (Click on either image for larger view):

2011

Spring views, 2012 (Click on any image for full view):

2012

As may be noticed in the preceding images, the landscape around the Mountain Spring had vigorously developed over the seven years since installation. The greater fullness lent the water feature an ever more established and comfortable appearance. However, the space available for the plantings remained the same, so management by means of pruning became increasingly necessary. The photo below shows the trees planted to the right of the water feature. The tree with the purple flowers is a Forest Pansy redbud (Cercis canadensis ‘Forest Pansy’). The other two trees are dwarf river birch (Betula nigra ‘Little King’). At the time of installation the three trees hardly filled the space they were given, but by 2013 annual pruning was necessary to keep the crowns of the trees from crowding each other. Take particular note of the redbud, which had been shaped to move away from the birches and toward the Mountain Spring:

Two more scenes from 2013 (Click on either image for full view):

2013

Seasonal beauty around the Mountain Spring, 2015-2019 (Click on any image for full view):

2015

2017

2018

2019

In spring of 2020 the world was in a state of lockdown because of the COVID-19 pandemic. I was still going into work to take care of the bonsai, however, and I took the occasion to make a big adjustment to the redbud tree adjacent to the water feature. With nobody around to witness it, I removed a large section of the tree’s crown:

This redbud specimen is a single tree, but forks a short way above the base, giving it the appearance of having two trunks. The major removal took place on the right trunk. That was the part most in conflict with the birches nearby. I cut that trunk back to one branch that projected horizontally to the left, crossing in front of the other trunk of the tree and projecting out over the water feature. The branch above the big rock and the water below was, in my view, critically important to retain for aesthetic reasons. That’s why I didn’t cut off the right trunk entirely. But the resulting form of the tree is very unconventional, and until I made the cut and saw the result I could not be certain the idea would work. I suppose that’s why I didn’t want any witnesses!

Scenes from the Mountain Spring, 2021 - 2023 (Click on any image for full view):

2021

2022

2023

The two dwarf river birch trees near the Mountain Spring were beautiful. That statement is made in the past tense because those trees no longer exist. The problem was that the trees were not always beautiful — they suffered from a chronic problem with insects and fungal disease. In winter, when bare, the white bark of the birches stood out in clean, crisp lines against the dark gray of the wall behind them. In spring the fresh, light green foliage had a cool and airy appearance. But before very long the bugs would show up. There were leaf aphids and two different kinds of mites that so thickly infested the poor trees the foliage would discolor, curl and wither before beginning to drop in mid-summer as if it was autumn. By the time autumn did come the trees were all but bare. I tried everything I could to combat the problem, from releasing thousands of predatory “beneficial” insects to eventually spraying insecticides and one year even applying a powerful systemic product. Nothing seemed to help. Once weakened by the bugs, fungal problems also attacked the birches. It was a mess that seemed to get worse every year. I hate using pesticides, especially if they don’t work. It became obvious that it was a losing battle and dwarf river birch was not the right plant for the site. We finally did what had to be done and took them out in spring of 2023. (Click on any image below for full view:)

2009

2010

2017

In place of the river birch we planted two Japanese stewartia (Stewartia pseudocamellia), a small flowering tree with four seasons of visual appeal. It will take a few years for the stewartia to grow into the space, but they will, and they’ll be a lovely compliment to a favorite feature of the garden:

To be continued…

The Wet and The Dry - Part 1, The Wet