The adversity garden: a Cleveland oasis is created anew after not one but two devastating battles with Mother Nature.

It was almost complete. The last few pieces of ground cover were being planted, and only the pine straw remained to be installed. The walks, fences, and pool had been finished a couple of weeks earlier, and the rear gazebo stood at attention, fully realizing its contribution to the backyard pool area. The swing in the side garden structure moved slightly in the Delta breeze in anticipation of its role in the landscape scheme. The garden dream of Cleveland's Carol Tatum was nearly a reality.

It had been a long time coming. The first landscape venture of Carol and her late husband, John, transpired several years and one house earlier. The resulting landscaping was certainly nice and right for that time in their lives, but Carol knew her dream yard was yet to come.

Shortly thereafter, design on the new borne began. A year passed as a carefully chosen architect and interior designer teamed with Carol to refine the family's needs. In collaboration with Carol and the Tatum family, I was called in to mold exterior thoughts, needs, and wishes into a landscape plan especially for them.

Some of what evolved was--as successful landscape design can be--almost a surprise to the homeowner. A backyard swimming pool satisfied the "needs" of sons John and Zachary, and other aspects tickled husband John, but really, it was Carol's garden, and she was both pleased and relieved to have it done. A gazebo near the pool offered the private sanctuary Carol had sought for reading, supervising pool activities, and casual entertaining. The side garden, with its long and narrow position and shade-covered swing, quickly became one of her favorite spots in the yard. Carol added to this area a playhouse that had once belonged to her grandmother, making it an even more special place.

But this wasn't the end of Carol's garden story. Normally, standard maintenance takes over here. Good landscaping usually gets better as it matures and is tweaked by the unique demands of its owner. Thoughts of additional interest become masses of impatiens of deftly placed spots of color. The garden and its owner become one, and the end result is realized.

This was not the case with Carol's garden. The next year brought with it the worst ice storm in memory. The large, stately oaks in Carol's front yard became almost barren trunks, their shade-producing branches now part of huge piles of storm debris that lined both sides of the street, bringing both awe and tears. The front yard was no more. The rear yard's eons-old and gorgeous pecan tree lay across previously well-kept beds and the swimming pool. Mother Nature had staked her claim to omnipotence.

But Carol was not to be deterred. At her direction, 1 set out to return the garden to its original appearance. But incredibly, the recreated oasis was soon smitten by straight-line winds that again left the garden in shambles.

Once more, Carol's dream overcame adversity, and the yard was restored with a little work. Mother Nature, fully satisfied that she had established her unquestioned position as boss, now reversed her efforts. Replacement trees grew and flourished in the now-peaceful space. Plant masses once again prospered. Newly budding flowers replaced mangled masses of color. The garden was lovely, and Carol's landscape dreams were finally complete. Mother Nature smiled. Carol did, too.

Carter Brown, registered landscape architect, is the head of the landscape department at Garden Works in Ridgeland.