8 I 3
BUILDINGS
Several recent “energy-systems” inspired by the ecology movement have sought to make greenhouses a fundamental part of human settlements. For example, Grahame Gaines’ self-contained eco-house includes a large greenhouse as a source of heat and food. (See London Observer, October 1972.) And Chahroudi’s Grow Hole—a glazed sunken pit for growing vegetables in winter—is another kind of greenhouse (Progressive Architecture, July 1970, p. 85).
Therefore:
In temperate climates, build a greenhouse as part of your house or office, so that it is both a “room” of the house which can be reached directly without going outdoors and a part of the garden which can be reached directly from the garden.
Place the greenhouse so that it has easy access to the vegetable garden (177) and the compost (178). Arrange its interior so that it is surrounded with waist-high shelves (201) and plenty of storage space—bulk storage (145) ; perhaps give it a special seat, where it is possible to sit comfortably—garden SEAT ( I 76) , WINDOW PLACE ( I 80) . . . .
8 14
| 176 GARDEN SEAT | |
|---|---|
| •v.^% |  |
815
| 8 MOSAIC OF SUBCULTURES** |
|---|
 |
42
. . . with the character of the garden fixed—garden growing wild (172), we consider the special corners which make the garden valuable and somewhat secret. Of these, the most important is the sunnv place (161), which has already been described, because it is so fundamental to the building. Now we add to this another seat, more private, where a person can go to sit and think and dream.
* *
Somewhere in every garden, there must be at least one spot, a quiet garden seat, in which a person—or two people—can reach into themselves and be in touch with nothing else but nature.
Throughout the patterns in this pattern language we have said, over and again, how very essential it is to give ourselves environments in which we can be in touch with the nature we have sprung from—see especially city country fingers (3) and quiet backs (59). But among all the various statements of this fact there is not one so far which puts this need right in our own houses, as close to us as fire and food.
Wordsworth built his entire politics, as a poet, around the fact that tranquility in nature was a basic right to which everyone was entitled. He wanted to integrate the need for solitude-in-nature with city living. He imagined people literally stepping off busy streets and renewing themselves in private gardens— every day. And now many of us have come to learn that without such a place life in a city is impossible. There is so much activity, days are so easily filled with jobs, family, friends, things to do— that time alone is rare. And the more we live without the habit of stillness, the more we tie ourselves to this active life, the stranger and more disquieting the experience of stillness and solitude becomes: city people are notoriously busy-busy, and cannot be alone, without “input,” for a moment.
It is in this context that we propose the isolated garden seat: a place hidden in the garden where one or two people can sit alone, undisturbed, near growing things. It may be on a roof
I76 GARDEN SEAT
top, on the ground, perhaps even half-sunken in an embankment.
There are literally hundreds of old books about gardens which testify to this pattern. One is Hildegarde Hawthorne’s The Lure of the Garden, New York: The Century Co., 1911. We quote from a passage describing the special kind of small talk that is drawn out of people by quiet garden seats:
Perhaps, of all the various forms of gossip overheard by the garden, the loveliest is that between a young and an old person who are friends. Real friendship between the generations is rare, but when it exists it is of the finest. That youth is fortunate who can pour his perplexities into the ear of an older man or woman, and who knows a comradeship and an understanding exceeding in beauty the facile friendships created by like interests and common pursuits; and fortunate too the girl who is able to impart the emotions and ideas aroused in her by her early meetings with the world and life to some one old in experience but comprehendingly young in heart. Both of them will remember those hours long after the garden gate has closed behind their friend forever; as long, indeed, as they remember anything that went to the making of the best in them.
Therefore:
Make a quiet place in the garden—a private enclosure with a comfortable seat, thick planting, sun. Pick the place for the seat carefully; pick the place that will give you the most intense kind of solitude.
quiet place
Place the garden seat, like other outdoor seats, where it commands a view, is in the sun, is sheltered from the wind—seat spots (241) ; perhaps under bushes and trees where light is soft and dappled—filtered light (238). . . .
| 177 VEGETABLE GARDEN* |
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 |
818
. . . we have one pattern, already, which brings out the useful character of gardens—both public and private ones—fruit trees (170); we supplement this with a smaller, but as important aspect of the garden—one which every public and private garden should contain: enhance common land—common land (67) and private gardens—half-hidden garden (ill) with a patch where people can grow vegetables.
In a healthy town every family can grow vegetables for itself. The time is past to think of this as a hobby for enthusiasts; it is a fundamental part of human life.
Vegetables are the most basic foods. If we compare dairy products, vegetables and fruits, meats, and synthetic foods, the vegetables play the most essential role. As a class, they are the only ones which are by themselves wholly able to support human life. And, in an ecologically balanced world, it seems almost certain that man will have to work out some balanced relationship with vegetables for his daily food. (See, for example, F. Lappe, Diet for a Small Planet, New York: Ballantine, 1971.)
Since the industrial revolution, there has been a growing tendency for people to rely on impersonal producers for their vegetables; however, in a world where vegetables are central and where self-sufficiency increases, it becomes as natural for families to have their own vegetables as their own air.
The amount of land it takes to grow the vegetables for a household is surprisingly small. It takes about one-tenth of an acre to grow an adequate year round supply of vegetables for a family of four. And apparently vegetables give a higher “nutrient return” for fixed quantities of energy—sun, labor—than any other food. This means that every house or house cluster can create its own supply of vegetables, and that every household which does not have its own private land attached to it should have a portion of a common vegetable garden close at hand.
Beside this fundamental need for vegetable gardens in cities,