More Than a Toolshed
Generations of Adamses have lived in Monroe. Most worked the land at some time, but now the numbers are fewer. In the fields that surround his home, Dexter has come across various parts of tools and machines from times past. He has collected them and created a thoughtful display on the sides of his rustic toolshed. Saw blades, chrome hubcaps, chains, locks, picks, wrenches, license plates, springs, pulleys, pitchforks, and hooks--each has its own place. The tailgate from his father's Studebaker serves as the centerpiece. Each find has intrinsic worth, but as a group, the tools are perhaps more beautiful because they represent and honor those who used them.

The Path to Inspiration
Dexter is always tinkering with things. A few years ago, he went through what he describes as his "birdhouse period." That's when he began making a series of birdhouses from old wood, rusted tin, and whatever else he found that was weathered, including antique farm implements. Fifteen birdhouses later, the air is filled with the vibration of flight and the joyous sound of birdsong.

His latest fascination with stone and pattern, paired with a love of history, has inspired him to create mosaic paths in the spirit of South American landscape architect Roberto Burle Marx. So now, using a 4-pound masonry hammer, Dexter taps, cuts, and sets brick and stone on sand. His pathways, made of scrap brick, granite cobble, and river stone, are merged with the native ferns and mosses.

As the light fades along the edges of the pinewoods, the calming sounds of a summer evening begin to rise. Frogs from the beaver pond fill the air with a constant "mmmmmrrrrkk, mmmmmrrrrkk," and a whippoorwill calls out to see who else is in the woods. But it is the blue cast of early night that brings the most assuring sounds. Around the edges of the garden, the happy laughter of Sam and Tyler echoes in the air as they chase the luminous lanterns of fireflies.

"Garden in the Pines" is from the July 2002 issue of Southern Living.