Chapter 40

Nicholas began working on the meditation garden while he waited for the work to start on his house. He located it in a natural depression near the meadow’s eastern edge. A huge granite boulder, that had been ripped out of some mountain in British Columbia and carried south by the ice sheet that once covered Seattle, rested there at the head of a tiny seep where rain naturally collected, creating slightly different growing conditions than the surrounding forest. A fallen cedar from a long-ago storm formed a border on the south side. A huge bigleaf maple spread a protective canopy overhead. Native ferns and salal lined a green boundary around the pool.

He expanded the pool and added additional water features—a tiny creek containing an invisible recirculating system now fed the pool a continuous stream of trickling water. A small burbling fountain aerated the water in the pool. He had spent two weeks selecting and positioning each rock and planting. Native sedges and flowering plants like pink turtlehead and marsh marigolds now emerged from carefully prepared pockets around the pool’s edge, their leaves catching light filtered through the canopy above.

The weathered green bench—now faced the water. From this vantage point, morning light would illuminate the pool while the surrounding forest remained in gentle shadow.

The whole effect was magical.

But something was missing. The water garden needed something more.

He sat on the bench watching the interplay of light, wondering what he’d missed

“This is a place for fairies, Mr. Nicholas.”

He turned and saw Tyler and Amy kneeling beside the bench and peering into the pool with fascination.

“What kind of fairies, Miss Amy?”

“Garden fairies, of course. Look, there’s a dragonfly. And a butterfly from the meadow. We were just reading about fairies in the Spiderwick Chronicles.”

“Well done, Miss Amy. I was just wondering what was missing. You’ve given me perfect advice. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Mr. Nicholas. Come on, Tyler, we gotta get back.”

With a cheerful wave, the two dashed off.

The image that came to mind was three fairies chasing a dragonfly over the tiny pond. A whimsical moment of play, perfect for the setting. There had been no magic in his childhood. The thought that fairies living with him in this wonderful new place brought a rush of childlike joy.

He envisioned a small, fine-boned metal sculpture made of copper that would introduce magic to the pool.

Now, the challenge was finding an artist capable of envisioning and creating such a piece.

Several days later, after some inquiries at the Bainbridge Garden Center, he was navigating his way to the other side of the island, down a winding gravel road, into a clearing where several barn-like structures were clustered around a modest farmhouse. A hand-painted sign read “McGree Arts Colony” in flowing script, with smaller text indicating “Traditional Crafts • Contemporary Visions • Open Studio Hours.”

Nicholas parked near the main building and immediately felt a sense of recognition. The layout, the purposeful arrangement of workshops, reminded him powerfully of Holzbau Schweiz. This looked like a place where serious work happened, where traditional skills were preserved and evolved.