It took a while to find Brief, the garden designed by the Sri Lankan writer and artist, Bevis Bawa, in 1929. There was no obvious signpost on the main road, so asking directions, I turned off onto a small side road in a bid to locate it. This put me in a landscape dense with tropical greenery, littered with coconut palm groves. Here and there, flashes of red and peach hibiscus flowers and the flaming leaves of tall croton bushes made startling splashes of colour in the monochromatic green of the jungle-like foliage until I finally came upon the missing sign.

Driving down a long, narrow pathway lined with sealing wax palms — their red, distinctive barks acting as beacons — I finally arrived at the iron-grill gates of Brief. Laid out on five acres of land surrounding the house near Bentota on Sri Lanka’s west coast, the garden was an ongoing project for Bevis who continued to work on it until close to his death in 1992.

The low-slung house is set amidst the gardens and surrounded by vegetation, so that through the large, open doors and windows and across from the west-facing veranda that catches the breeze, you see towering trees, clumps of tall bamboo stands and masses of heliconias with their brightly-coloured bracts. It is a rich, green tapestry, tightly knotted together and accented with pinpoints of colour.

The gardens are terraced and were landscaped gradually, over a period of time, as a series of different spaces so that each space has a different mood. There is the tranquility of a grassed area with a round pond that, with its stone surround, sits naturally against a backdrop of towering trees and in another space, flights of steps leading one up, creating movement and mystery in anticipation of what’s to come. Scattered throughout the garden and furnishing it are sculptures, urns, ponds, terraces and cascades.

Lush, tropical havens on Sri Lanka’s west coast

Walking through the garden in steaming humidity, the greenery threatens to take over and there is an overpowering feeling that the garden will soon revert to jungle, if left untended. The atmosphere is animated by the sounds of hundreds of birds, its spaces and enclosures looking out to artfully borrowed views of the countryside beyond to create an illusory sense of a vast space.

Inspired by the ingenuity and naturalness of Brief, Bevis’s younger brother, Geoffrey, decided to design his own house and garden — Lunuganga, on a nearby rubber plantation that he acquired in 1948. The garden’s location — spread over two small hills and with extensive views of Dedduwa Lake, lends itself to imaginative landscaping which the genius of Geoffrey could exploit to create a natural-looking garden that is all the more beguiling for its artful simplicity.

The deep enjoyment he got from working on his estate convinced him to swap his law career for one in architecture and landscape designing. He went to England for training and finally returned home to pursue his passion. He went on to become Sri Lanka’s leading architect — an icon whose buildings were designed to work with the local climate and landscape so that they appeared blended with their surroundings.

This ‘natural’ trademark is clearly apparent at Lunuganga with the surrounding countryside and views incorporated into the design so that it appears to be a part of its surroundings. The 15-acre property — of which only five acres have been landscaped — is a narrow strip of land that straddles Dedduwa Lake so that there are views to both the north and south of it. Trees were cleared to open up these views in the early 1950s, first from the north terrace and then from the southern hill formerly known as Cinnamon Hill, named after the cinnamon plantation that preceded the rubber plantation.

Rubber trees dot the grounds now, a reminder of the garden’s origins, along with towering specimens of bamboo stands. There are mature trees of many species, growing alongside Sri Lanka’s national tree — the Ironwood, an indigenous rainforest tree that reaches 30m in height with delicate, perfumed flowers used in herbal medicine. Everywhere there is a profusion of different varieties of palms and ferns, and in clearings, swathes of grass, thick blades matting the surface in some, while in others, finer fescues create a more refined effect.

The long view from the south that opened up after the removal of the trees revealed a temple on a hill in the far distance, while the cleared area on the northern side incorporated views of an island in the middle of the lake and set the scale for the design of the garden. The garden is designed to take advantage of the views — the Bentota River flows languidly through this area and the terracing and clever use of the ha-ha — a landscaping device that makes the lawn appear to flow and merge with the landscape beyond by means of a sunken ditch and hidden retaining wall that allows uninterrupted views of the river from several vantage points in the garden. It is a peaceful and bucolic scene, the garden designed to seem as one with the river landscape.

Geofrey Bawa enjoyed views of the garden at different times of the day and several small structures and alcoves have been placed strategically, many with bells and gongs incorporated into the design which allowed him to summon up lunch or a cup of tea. When the gong or bell sounded, a servant would appear with the desired victuals.

The garden continued to evolve over a period of nearly 50 years with no master plan and new buildings in the form of an office and guest rooms were added on at later times. Outside his office with its large glass windows is a table and chairs with a large gong at hand. This is where he would sit and have lunch as he looked out over the river. The small elevation on which the building stands was cut and terraced with a drop down to a clearing where gardeners, chatting lazily, swept up the debris of falling leaves — seemingly a never-ending task. Stone steps lead down to the clearing, the expanse of which is covered by a large butterfly-shaped pond covered in purple water lilies. At one end, a seat in a sheltered alcove provides a useful resting spot

Walking past the pond, with the river to my right, I pass decades-old frangipani (Plumeria) trees. Wells, now in disuse, were dug for water with windmills powering their function. In another part of the garden, a clever use of the ha-ha completely hides from view, a small public pathway that goes through the property thus affording total privacy.

Strolling through the garden, I am struck once again by the tropical foliage and gigantic trees; cinnamon, mahogany and ebony, amongst many others, the names evoking exotic, faraway lands — except they were in front of me, confirming that I was on that exotic ‘spice island’ of Serendib. Lush planting gives way to clearings each with a different mood dictated by the planting, lighting and sculptural forms. Yet all are part of the same jigsaw, coming together to create a coherent whole.

Placed strategically throughout the garden are large, sculptural urns and pots that act as focal points and connect different spaces as the eye moves along until it eventually comes to rest on the vista of the river, with the garden seeming to flow right into it. My senses are heightened and alerted by the stimuli of chirping birds; the sound of a gong as it punctuates the air, the scent of flowers in dense tree foliage intensified by the steaming humidity and then a soft breeze stirs and brings relief from the heat of the day.

The writer is a garden designer qualified from the Royal Botanic gardens, Kew, London

Published in Dawn, EOS, June 24th, 2018