For centuries, sweeping drifts of plants, majestic views and a series of garden "rooms" separated by thick hedges or sturdy walls have been used to create drama and structure in gardens. Most of us making gardens in the city or suburban lots can't use such space-squandering techniques. Instead, Vail has created modest intrigues by turning every nook and cranny of his complicated little garden into a place of meaning, drawing you in to look closely at a mound of beach stones, an old fire bucket hanging on a wire lattice, or tiles inset with colorful trinkets.

"When there is too much stuff in the house, I bring it out into the garden," Vail says of the agates, shells and crystals piled into bowls and heaped along the edges of pathways. Even the chairs are uniquely personal, with little airplane cutouts decorating their plank backs. Vail made them as a gift for his partner, John Mace, who was a flight attendant. And, like nearly everything else in this garden, there is a note of the unexpected, for the chairs aren't a familiar cedar or even white, but lacquered a soft spring green. In such a confined space, every single item collected, crafted or brought outdoors is an opportunity for impact. Vail takes full advantage of this, making it seem a plus to work in Lilliputian scale.

In small, flat gardens it's particularly important to divide space. Here, a wide path through the center effectively cuts the garden in half.		A pergola built of salvaged windows shelters the shady side garden. Such transparency lets in all available light while drawing the eye upward. Such gardening in three dimensions enlarges the feel of Vail's tiny Central District garden.

Vail and Mace bought the old house seven years ago, and set to work to transform the dismal back garden. It began as a blank, flat, worn-out space, well-excavated by the five dogs that had lived within the ramshackle wooden fence. Although Vail's garden experience consisted of tending a couple of P-Patches, his mother had always gardened and he came to the task willingly. Vail had sculpted and spent time in his father's wood shop, and brought this valuable experience of working in three dimensions to his garden-making.

He began by building a deck for entertaining, then turned an old garage at the back of the garden into his ceramic and painting studio. Now its vine-decked exterior provides privacy from the neighbors and its glass door beckons all who see it.

Small details make a big impact in such confined spaces. Vail's father built this Shinto-style lantern, which illuminates and decorates while adding an international flavor to the garden.
While vines and trees have grown up so much in the past few years that much of the garden is shady, this central area is kept open for a sunny deck and patch of lawn. Vail decorated the plank backs of the chairs with a cutout airplane motif, and painted them a soft green to harmonize with the garden's many foliage plants.

Hardscape was an early priority, and Vail brought in wood and stone for decking and pathways, planting bamboo for privacy and noise control. Cleaning out and enriching the soil was quite a job because the old dirt was horribly compacted and full of discarded bricks. He built up small rockeries to create different levels and better drainage. Vail cleverly divided the garden into intimate spaces, with near-transparent wire grids supporting narrow, living screens of vines. This method doesn't block light, look too heavy or take up valuable space. The wire grids also work as display space to hang whatever objects Vail is enamored of at the moment. He began his planting with eight vines, which have now grown up and mixed so promiscuously it is impossible to tell where one variety begins and another ends. Kiwi, honeysuckle, Virginia creeper and clematis wind and entwine arbors and wire, providing pulsing vigor as well as flower, scent and fuzzy kiwi fruit.

As with the found and crafted objects, Vail chooses plants for their visual qualities — leaf, color, shape and texture — not worrying about their botanical names. "If I need to know the name of a plant, I call up my mom or sister," he laughs.

Vail did all the paving himself, and there is plenty going on underfoot every step of the way through this garden. He brought Mexican tiles home in a suitcase, and wasn't deterred when he found them shattered. The pieces of colorful tile are worked into the paving design along with beach rocks from Lopez Island, tiles from Japan, beach glass and shards of old Chinese pottery found in an Anacortes antique shop. The international theme is continued with a hot-tub enclosure reminiscent of Bali. Woven screens surround the little decked enclosure, and Vail's dad built the Shinto lantern that both decorates and illuminates. A paned window opens up views to the garden. Like so many other objects there, the window is on its second life, picked up at a neighborhood garage sale.

Despite a lot size of 50 by 100 feet, with a backyard measuring only 30 by 40, the garden lives much larger. An orchard of dwarf apple trees is contained in four large terra-cotta pots. There are pathways for strolling, a cushioned bench for respite, a tiny lawn, sunny deck for dining and shade garden thick with hostas and ligularia.