Who is Michael O'Keefe ?

During the hottest stretch of a Texas summer, when the Mercury perks a little higher every day and tender blades of grass turn pale and brittle, the need for water is almost primeval.

Knowing there is liquid respite nearby is mentally soothing. The sounds and sights of water are psychological balms to the unrelenting heat. Some people capture water and hold it in a pond or pool, providing almost instant relief. The air cools and the water beckons. For others, a total life immersion is the only way to weather the weather, so they live miles from conveniences on the shores of a lake.

To live with water takes sacrifices, capital, patience and often, imagination. Here we look at one group, the pond builders.

They move like glaciers through the back yard, pushing aside boulders, scoring trenches, gouging holes for small lakes, and when they are done, the glaciers sit down, take a long slow drink, and admire their work.

The yard is no longer a pristine patch of green. It is a mucky mess with black plastic lining muddy, misshapen holes. Rocks are perched on the edge of the abyss or sit forlornly in the middle of a dirt field.

This is the beginning of what will become an addiction of time and energy. This is the birth of a pond.

Soon the pond's shoreline will buzz with activity. During the day, the builders will plant flowers and shrubs. Nocturnal animals will visit with regularity. Within weeks, the pond builders will have added goldfish or Koi. They are replicating the evolutionary cycle in overdrive.

Pond building is an exercise in creation. A scrap of land, perhaps sustaining a few species of this and that, is transformed into a lush habitat that attracts animals and insects, and supports a variety of life. Each year, even in a slowing economy, the sales of water gardens increase 10 to 15 percent according to PK Data, an Atlanta research firm. Aquatic gardening is a compelling endeavor that rewards the builder with a refuge.

It is this need for a safe place that brings many people to pond building. Margaret Garrison wanted a serenity garden. All she had was a suburban back yard with a privacy fence in Richardson. Picture it, a builder issue-size slab of concrete, a sloping lawn without a single tree, the abrupt vertical planks of a privacy fence creating the horizon. A sterile, boring, uninspired patch of earth.

Garrison was building her serenity garden in her imagination and as the days of planning passed, water began to seep into the vision. By the time she and her husband Ron were ready to commit to a builder, she knew her garden plans called for a pond.

She gave builder Michael O`Keefe, owner of Fairview Ponds & Gardens in Dallas, free rein. She spoke the words a builder longs to hear, "Let's pretend there is no budget. Show me what you can do." O`Keefe came back with a plan that moves 20,000 gallons of water an hour through a waterfall, down a stream and into a lagoon. He drew two gazebos, one to house a spa and another for the porch swing and seating area Garrison secretly wanted. The deal was done.

Another elaborate O`Keefe creation, a multi-pool river course with multiple waterfalls and 135 tons of boulders, lured Cheri Johnson into buying a house in Corinth she didn't like very much. Her husband Greg, was completely unimpressed and reminded her that he couldn't very well sleep in a pond. But she was adamant. She had to have that pond. "Buying that was all about the pond" she says.

She doesn't have to explain. Her yard is lovely; it's dramatic. Water courses down the side of a steep hull, spilling into pools, then rushing over the rocks to continue it's downward course. Every now and then it will settle into a deep basin, as if to take a break in the gravitational race. Then the water becomes lazy and builds to a depth that supports the graceful koi that circle in slow arabesques.

A year after buying the house, Johnson has become one with her pond. She leaps across boulders and scampers through the river barefoot, like a feral thing.

"I live outside", says Johnson. She's able to frolic in this summer heat because her yard with huge shade trees and gallons of coursing water is more than 10 degrees cooler than the surrounding landscape. It is an oasis, and she is Tarzan's Jane living in her managed wilderness.

Leeann Wilhelmi of Grapevine echoes Johnson's words. "I'm an outdoor person", she says standing in a back yard filled with water features.
When she moved into the house, there was a stark geometric pool with spa and a fountain. In the far back yard, beyond the pool were two pear trees with small flower beds encircling their trunks. Right there between the trees would be a perfect place for a little pond, she thought. Something small.

As with so many modest plans, this one grew to two ponds and a connecting stream with a beach. The gradual border makes it easy to clean, she says. When the pear trees drop their leaves, they all float to the "beach". In between the trees, where the envisioned pond was to be, is a square deck with a pergola. Surrounding the pergola's roofline are misters that. when turned on, create a wall of fog that swirls around the chairs.

It's on this deck that Leeann and her husband Gary can be found in the late afternoon. He's there decompressing from his long commute from north Plano. "We don't sit out here and look at the pool. We site by the pond and watch the fish. It's a good way to relax", Leeann says. Often, if she is sitting by herself, it's because she is seeking refuge from the noise created by four teens in the house.

Designing a place of refuge is Michael O'Keefe's job; he built all these ponds. He's been building water features since he was in grade school, digging pits with Tonka trucks in his parents' California back yard. He'd line his shallow holes with plastic and dump in the goldfish he won at local fairs.

Eventually the family moved to Duncanville, and in 1989, Michael entered the pond-building business. Now he deploys 20 crews a day to construct ponds all over North Texas.

Many of O'Keefe's projects are in public spaces. His ponds can be seen at the Pantego Town Hall, the prayer garden in the Southwest Baptist Theological Seminary in Forth Worth, and Garden of Angels memorial park in Euless.

His skill as a draftsman and designer of dreams is what keeps his business growing. Much of the bread-and-butter work is in renovation. He says the most common mistake people in Texas make is putting in a small pond. In the summer, the water gets so warm that there is little oxygen and aquatic life forms suffer. The smallest pond he will consider building is 10 by 15 feet. They're not inexpensive - the base price of the simplest pond is $5,000 says O`Keefe, And as many of his clients can attest, simple ponds often turn into multiple ponds that cover the entire back yard. The final cost of these is often comparable to the price of the house.

But what gives the homeowner the most pleasure? The pond builders would say the water feature. For them, it is home.

e-mail Michael
michael@gardentalkradio.net