A Fountain is an Iterative Thing

The brief on this was pretty straightforward.  Design a fountain for the Entry Garden that a) matches the aesthetic, b) isn’t a nightmare to maintain, and c) provides a source of water to birds and pollinators.  Oh, and it would be nice if small rodents couldn’t fall in and drown.

When it comes to ready-made garden fountains you are pretty much spoilt for choice.  There are options in nearly every kind of material, in various degrees of good taste (little cherubs peeing, frogs in the midst of a yoga session), in many sizes, and for every budget.  And in spite of that, I struggled to find an easy point-and-click solution. I mentioned in an earlier post that I really liked Monty Don’s fountain in his Paradise Garden at Longmeadow, and at first glance it looked as if, with a little ingenuity, I could create a close approximation.  You be the judge.

This White Garden fountain is a hive of activity . . . Except when you go to photograph it

The phrase “Water enhances every garden” is so universally true that it doesn’t really bear repeating.  Our little bubbler in the White Garden attracts all manner of birds, mammals, and insects.  The birds land on a feeder, eat some seeds, and wash it down with a little agua fria.  In the winter we add a heater and they all enjoy it even more.  I like it because it’s pretty low-key.  I wanted the Entry Garden fountain to strike the same note. The plants are the main focus—obelisks and other accoutrements are secondary.  So when I saw a Corten steel planter bowl of the appropriate size online, I scooped it up.  It seemed so perfect that I was emboldened to take an “it’ll be alright on the night” approach to design that I’ve often come to regret.

The layout begins

The best decision in this process was to go for (what seemed to be) an oversized underground tank with pump, that holds 35 gallons of water.  Rated to support a 2,000 lb fountain, it gave me options if this whole project went pear-shaped and I needed to go to plan B: a larger stone ball bubbler.

Summertime, and the digging is easy

As the ground had been excavated within the year, the digging was easy and the bottom was filled first with aggregate, then sand.  Simultaneously filling the tank and backfilling around the edge ensured that the tank would keep its shape and allow the wedge-shaped inserts to fit correctly.

Sitting slightly proud, it should avoid any backwash from the path

Now it was time to take a good, long look at the fountain bowl.

We had a few Corten steel planters made by a local metal worker, and I’ve used a fair few feet of Corten steel edging in this very garden, so I know it when I see it.  This bowl is not Corten steel.  Even in its unpatinated state it should be grey and the rust should grow to be dark and nearly solid.  This was silver and the rust was already bleeding out onto the stone.  I just knew that within a month the water would be disgusting.  So it was time for the first pivot.

I started by sanding to remove the rust and then abrading the surface with a Scotch-Brite pad to a uniform pattern.  The surface was not unpleasant, sort of like spun aluminum.  Two coats of metal sealer may or may not keep the rust at bay, and combined with the grey tones of the bluestone it seemed to be working within a similar palette.  A hammer drill made short work of the 5/8” hole needed to install the tubing.

Surf’s up! Clean but not too clean with a little patina

There are two mechanical challenges in a fountain of this kind.  First, the bowl needs to be absolutely level—within a millimeter—for the water to flow smoothly from its edges.  And second, the water needs to stay within the bounds of the basin so that it forms a closed system.  If water spills out, you will be refilling the fountain every day.  With all this in mind, I began work on my first concept.

The complete picture. A little too art deco for the space and drainage was not assured

Four slabs, cut to fit within the bounds of the tank.  First problem (and my fault for assuming things) was that bluestone is sold in “nominal” dimensions.  This means that an 18” square piece is really 17.5”—a real challenge if you have everything calculated to within 1/8”.  Adopt, adapt, improve and create a workaround.  Done.  I hate it.  Not only that but irregularities in the stone mean that some water is escaping and that’s no good.  Time to have a think.

Not the finished item, but with a little finicky placement of stones, a good start

I liked the modern look of broken slates within the basin as it was easy to create and provided good drainage.  The tedious process of leveling the bowl on the stone (using large, flat washers and waterproof construction adhesive) revealed that the bowl itself was out of level.  To be fair, it was sold as a planter so I can’t quibble.  Once filled with water and fired up it became apparent that absolute level was not required for a pleasing effect.  But this brought up another problem:  even at its slowest setting the water pressure was too much and it shot water several feet into the air and spun the hose around wildly.  Fiddle, fiddle, fiddle.  Another stone, drilled and centered in the bottom, holds the hose and a strategic stack of stones allowed me to decrease the flow to a satisfying burble.  We have established proof of concept.

The final challenge is the transition from the path to the basin.  The basin has a black plastic edge that works to hold in any water flowing from the fountain: necessary but unsightly.  I tried loosely stacking flat stones around the edge but it looked sloppy.  Realizing that I haven’t yet laid down the final aggregate in the path (I’m leaning toward 3/4”-1” river stone) I think the most elegant solution might be just to feather this into the broken slate.  If that doesn’t look right I can get more Corten steel edging and finesse this into a square or circular field.  But that won’t happen until next week as right now I’m sick of the sight of the thing.

The view from the Croquet Lawn through the Boxwood Hedge

I’ve been fortunate in that most of my projects to have ended with a full stop at the end (and even occasionally an exclamation point!) but this seems to be ending with a question mark.  Will the water stay clear? Will I, for aesthetic reasons, need to add more rocks within the bowl?  Will the sealant on the steel last for years or will it rust?  Would the rust be bad?  How often will I need to top it up with water?  I guess we’ll see.  The good news is that some large part of the fountain is a success.  What remains to be seen is whether the bowl remains, or will it take its place in the garden as a succulent planter.