It is often stated, “the art of making landscapes is just a branch of architecture”. What comparison is there between the creating of a building, which fits into a narrow and limited space, and the creating of large pastoral meadows where the horizon is the boundary, ever-changing in light and shadow with the clouds above, with the light of early morn, at eve when the rays of the setting sun cast their reflection upon the earth, in the silvery moonlight, and in the changing colors of spring and summer and fall and winter? Such are the keys to landscaping.
The landscaper must be imbued with an imaginative mind. If his work is that of a master, it retains youth and vigor into an indefinite time unfathomed by man. The landscaper must see the tree in its full beauty hundreds of years hence. A painting or a cathedral is limited in this respect. Decay starts at its completion. Think of the giant redwoods of California and their forefathers, which probably date back long before the history of mankind! Each tree, each shrub, each flower expresses an individual beauty fitting for certain landscape.