Laura Godown led the effort to create Main Street Garden, a public position technically from Mill RIver, in downtown Stamford.
Laura Godown led the effort to create Main Street Garden, a public position technically from Mill RIver, in downtown Stamford.
Laura Godown led the effort to create Main Street Garden, a public position technically from Mill RIver, in downtown Stamford.
Laura Godown led the effort to create Main Street Garden, a public position technically from Mill RIver, in downtown Stamford.
It is difficult to take metaphors out of a garden, where they grow like weeds (“bad seed”, “late flowering”, “pinch the yolk”).
A secret lawn (something) in downtown Stamford serves as a metaphor for a positive future. Where the asphalt used to be, now there are evergreen beds. A mass of weeds that is overlooked has been remodeled into an oasis. A good investment in a large part of the neighborhood that is overlooked has served as citizens the area of vandalism.
Main Street Garden is the home of Stamford Manor, a senior housing complex. At one end of the block is the 132-year-old “purple bridge,” a reminder that even wrought iron will withstand negligence. Recognizable Locations: Columbus Park, Trump Park, the Government Center. In the lawn garden is Stamford’s “Oz,” the renovated Mill River Park that houses a carousel, ice rink, spiral trails and a dog park.
When grass-leading architect Laura Godown gives directions, her reference point is Meineke (the discounted muffler’s house) across the street. The lawn is one of the most striking and invisible places in Stamford. Wonders, like the vast park of the Mianus River, which is never explored through many residents, however, this is a kaleidoscope of shades that hit the city center.
Technically, it is part of Mill River Park, in fine print in the agreement to realize despite all the dream of a mini-Central Park that officials passed as an unused key to the city for the most part of the 20th century.
“He was an orphan, until Laura took over,” says Arthur Selkowitz, chairman of the Board of Directors of Mill River Park Collaborative.
That’s about seven years ago. From the sidewalk, it’s a box of weeds, the old site of a company that caught fire. It’s a place to hang out. Godown dug about 20 centimeters and hit the nemesis of any gardener: the asphalt.
“You see me with a beak, ” he said. It’s not pretty, but I’m doing the job. “
Godown says he “always played on the turf,” but he didn’t get serious until he retired from a finance career about 15 years ago. She began volunteering at the New York Botanical Garden, where she learned the nuances of public lawn maintenance.
These paintings encouraged her to try to reach the highest standards, that nature has the means to return to earth.
“The grounds are dynamic. Things paint, so they don’t paint. Things paint for years, and then they happen dead. It’s humiliating. “
His professional skills have shown success on the ground. His favorite volunteers are accountants, “because we’re all OCS, which is wonderful when it comes to weeding. “
Dudley Williams, president of the collaboration, tells stories of locals thanking him for the “comfort” the garden brought. He calls it “the ultimate component of the superbly designed park” and emphasizes that it is an honor for volunteers like Godown with relatively little input.
While the lawn remains a largely unknown gem, Williams says Mill River Park, next door, peaked after the COVID-19 outbreak sent others outside. The people who passed the park nevertheless stopped to cross it.
“You can’t appreciate it until you walk in,” Alicia Wettenstein, director of collaborative development, said of the park. “You can’t see it from the street. “
Godown almost unconsciously uses gardening shorthand (rhododendrons are “rhodies”), weaving fundamental gardening tips (“the simplest component is planting, it’s about weeding and brushing”), and the sounds decided to save an oak that has been classified as suppression.
She sees the expanse of the lawn as “a football field”, but I tell her that it is significantly shorter and looks more like a baseball field, with the front door like marble, a bench for visitors and a mound as a centerpiece. .
Several plantations reveal their identity with small panels to help curious gardeners (Geum Triflorum / “Prairie Smoke”). Although Godown is obviously proud of the garden, it has fueled concerns that it is as seductive but as ephemeral as the butterflies it attracts.
While Selkowitz credits former Stamford Land Use Office Leader Robin Stein, former Stamford Land Use Office Chief Robin Stein for sealing the deal that included the turf, casually notes that “it is so these assets can be used for a park. “
Godown is amazed by this revelation, because housing complexes take over Stamford spaces like Digitaria sanguinalis.
“I’m afraid when I pass into the old man’s space you’ll bring me an excavator!”
This news turns out motivates you to do even more. But first, other people have to locate the garden. The front sign features silhouettes that motivate visitors not to smoke, drink, throw away or let dogs do their needs in public space.
Apparently, the dog’s silhouette worked too well, confusing passers-by into believing that dogs were welcome.
“So I drew little feces with a marker,” Godown reveals, “I think I’m going to clear things up a little bit. “
Although the lawn of the three seasons has thrived in this year of despair, volunteers are for the fourth season. Everything will be reduced by the winter months and the cycle will start in spring.
This will take us to 2021 and some other metaphor. We can spend the season complicated. All it takes is preparation, teamwork, courage and the right gardener.
John Breunig is editor-in-chief of Stamford Advocate and Greenwich Time. 203-964-2281. Jbreunig@scni. com. twitter. com/johnbreunig.