On this happy occasion of our graduation from the Landscape Institute, I could talk about how I fortuitously discovered the field of landscape design and its sister field, landscape history. Or, I could talk about the immense pleasure I have experienced struggling to master the contents of every class I have ever taken here. Or, I could dispense unwanted projections or advice on the future of the landscape profession. But I would rather relate my odyssey of discovery into the field of landscape design and what it has meant to me personally. This time around--since I am now over sixty and had previously earned a Masters degree in Reformation history--school has been an awakening--an arousal of my most creative and best talents; a discovery of creative talents that I either never knew existed or did not believe I possessed. My achievements and the approval of practitioners in this field--professionals, teachers, clients, and students--have allowed a new found confidence to take root in me.

With every paper I write, with every garden I design, with every plot and pot of earth I run through my fingers, I have looked for Beauty and Truth--the Janus figure that satisfies both the heart and mind. Why a garden--such a fragile and ephemeral piece of nature--should have this effect, I surely do not know. Perhaps it has something to do with trees. Andrew Jackson Downing once said that "trees are like the returns of gratitude, [they] raise a most delightful train of sensations in the mind; so innocent and rational, that they justly rank with the most exquisite of human enjoyments." And though we may never fully understand why, our sentient being is made better by this brush with nature.

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There has been much discussion regarding the slow expansion of Danny Boyle's dynamite drama 127 Hours. Much of it has revolved around a certain moment that occurs towards the end of the picture. Sure, the film is based on a somewhat publicized true story, so this might not count as a spoiler, but I'll try to be vague for those not in the know. Anyway, in the same way that The Cove had to deal with people who were generally interested in its content (an expose on the practice of dolphin slaughter in Japanese waters) but didn't particularly want to sit through images of dolphins being graphically killed onscreen, 127 Hours has a major handicap in regards to both its mainstream box office success and its Oscar hopes. In a just world, the film will end up scoring at least a Best Actor nomination (if not win) for James Franco, who dominates the film in no less a potent manner than Natalie Portman owns every moment of Black Swan (review for that one coming after the holiday). But there is a genuine concern that enough people will pass on the terrifically engaging and intense character study because they know what happens and are not sure they can handle it. So for those on the fence, here's the scoop:

It is a mesh bag, a reddish woven net with five mandarins inside. They've been carried here -- from Europe -- by a reader who discovered where I live thanks to the tracks left in the blog. After I brought him a glass of water, he took the citrus fruits out of his backpack -- a little embarrassed -- as if he'd come to give me something too common on this island, even more common than the invasive marabou weed, or intolerance. It's inexplicable, then, why I grabbed the bag and buried my nose in every fruit. Within a few seconds I was shouting for my family to let them know about the orange globes I was already beginning to peel. Sinking my nails into their skin and smelling my fingers, I have a celebration of orange zest on each hand.

A trail of peels covers the table and even the dog is enthusiastic about the scent that is wafting through the whole house. The mandarins have arrived! The almost forgotten scent, the extravagant texture, have returned. My niece celebrates their appearance and I have to explain that once these fruits did not arrive by boat or plane. I avoid confusing her -- she's only eight -- with the history of the National Citrus Plan, and the large expanses on the Isle of Youth where oranges and grapefruits were harvested by students from other countries. Nor do I mention the triumphalist statistics thrown out from the dais, or the tropical island juices that started out with pulp extracted from our own crops and now are made with imported syrup. But I do tell her that when November and December rolled around, all the children in my elementary school smelled like oranges.

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"Jumping off the gb bridge, sorry." Those were the last heartbreaking words Tyler Clementi shared with the world on Facebook before jumping off the George Washington Bridge and killing himself. Tyler was the Rutgers University student who took his life after learning that his roommate had posted a video online of Tyler kissing another man. He was so stricken with horror at the prospect of the world coming to learn that he was gay that Tyler decided it was better to leap from a bridge than deal with the shame. Tyler may have driven himself to that bridge, but it is our failure as a society to combat homophobia that wound up taking that poor boy's life.

The only thing more shocking than Tyler's senseless suicide is the fact that people are shocked it happened. All over the news, images of bewildered parents and students questioning this tragedy dominated the narrative, which is puzzling. We live in a nation defended by first-rate gay soldiers, who are treated as second-rate citizens. We live in a nation married to the ideals of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, that deprives gay Americans of the freedom to marry. We live in a nation with an electorate that condones this kind of discrimination by supporting candidates who hold these discriminatory values. Despite America's exceptionalism, America remains exceptionally bigoted. The subtext of these policies is that there is something wrong with Americans who are born gay. If we are serious about preventing tragedies like that of Tyler Clementi's, we need to combat the source of this homophobic message. One easy way to do so is by supporting candidates for public office who believe in equal protection under the law for all Americans and who do not make distinctions among our people based on their sexual orientation.

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