Color on campus: from the seeds of a family's gift and an artistic vision, a unique garden blossoms in a collegiate setting.

A chorus of birds flies overhead, winged shadows superimposed upon the gravel-strewn pathway, as the spring breeze nudges weary students to seek comfort on a gently rocking garden swing. The sounds of a gushing fountain drift from a latticed pergola, intimately entangled with curling ivy, which shades teak benches from walkways that pulse with life. The Nicholson Garden, a little corner of Eden at Jackson's Millsaps College, has transformed a once sterile space between academic buildings into an abode of tranquil nature.

Before the garden, the area between the Christian Center and Murrah Hall was a simple and utilitarian set of triangular paths intercepted by Major Millsaps' final resting place and the "M-bench," a landmark on campus since the 1920s. Through a generous gift from three alumnae and the creative vision of campus grounds supervisor Danny Neely, the concrete and grass throughway is now a lush oasis, tempting each passerby to slow down and smell the flowers.

Jean Nicholson Medley, Linda Nicholson Bartling, and Nancy Nicholson wished to create a legacy for their family at Millsaps. The idea of a garden, emblematic of a heritage imbued with gardens, took root and blossomed. The sisters knew that they wanted camellias, roses, and azaleas in the garden but gave the college free reign in developing the project. "They gave me the plants they would like to see, and then basically I came up with the plan from the ground up," says Neely.

In planning the space, Neely consulted Elise Smith, an art history professor and avid gardener. Her garden at home is a harmonious semblance of striking flowers and native Mississippi plants that have prospered in Jackson's Yazoo clay. Organized like an English garden, characterized by spontaneous overflows of flowering plants that evoke a sense of carefree enjoyment, the garden's style is natural and not too labor intensive. "One way of thinking about it is as a messy garden," she says with a smile.

Many of the seedlings used in Smith's garden came from her mother's plants: "My mother loved to garden, so I picked that up from her." Other plants came from the yards of friends. "The garden becomes a collection of friends, in a sense," she explains, gazing over her bohemian assortment of shared flowers and shrubs.

Neely also favored the aesthetics of an English garden but wanted a design that complemented the existing landscaping on campus. "I wanted a 'formal informal' garden," he says. "I wanted some of the different plant materials that have an airy, open look and soft feel to them, but I wanted a defined edge to these beds." On a college campus, "maintaining the need for neatness" while "still allowing for a lot of beautiful and interesting plants" is very important, adds Smith.

"We have lower plants along the borders to define the bed itself, with more open-area plants in the center for height and for different color. I tried to design it so we would have something blooming year round," Neely says. In the completed garden, even on the cusp of spring, sangria-shaded nandinas and splashes of sunny forsythia enliven mulched beds and brown trees waiting for their first vibrant buds.

Neely also took existing landmarks into consideration. "I wanted to shield the M-bench and soften it into the landscape, take Some of these hard marble and concrete aspects that we have here and try to soften them up with plant materials. It worked pretty well. The M-bench is actually used more now than it has ever been used in my 15 years. Also, when the crape myrtles are blooming and the vitex is blooming, it really softens up the sides of the Major's tomb."

The success of the garden can be measured by the momentous events that shape its three-year existence: proposals and even a couple of weddings have taken place here. As the M-bench is the campus's most romantic spot, where lore has it that one is sure to be wed if he sits on the bench with his beloved at midnight and endows her with a kiss, it seems only proper that the garden maintains that loving feeling.

For Smith, the garden is a wistful spot that helps her reflect upon her own endeavors. "As an art historian and not an artist, I think of my garden sometimes as being almost like a canvas to paint on, and aesthetic issues like color and form are important in the planning stages--but then I often lose track of all those plans when I actually get around to digging!"

It became a canvas for Neely as well. "I was influenced by my grandmother, for she loved her roses and her garden," he says. "Growing up with that experience helped me a lot." The mellifluous colors, angles, and textures he created came out of his painter's brush, each element artfully balanced between that which pleases the eye and that which suits the natural setting of the campus.

"Being able to go home and dig in the dirt is a major way to get out of my head and into my hands," says Smith. In the same way, the Nicholson Garden is an outlet for students to leave the rigorous, abstract world of the mind and enter the tangible world of the aesthetic, which resonates powerfully after stressful days in school. "Everyone is so focused on stuff to grade, on class, on the test waiting in the next classroom, but walking through the garden is like walking through something that filters that out," Smith says.

The gentle whispers of nature in the Nicholson Garden inspire a metamorphosis of the frenzied pace of academia into the calm respite of idyllic repose that only melodious chirps, brilliant colors, and the infinite outdoors can generate.