Seventy-nine acres of serenity in St. Louis

Some men look to the stars for vision; Henry Shaw looked to the sod.

The young Shaw arrived in St. Louis from his native England as a lad of 18 in 1819. On quiet days, he would spend hours wandering through a windswept, treeless tract of land just outside the city. His only companions were his dreams.

Fast forward 40 years: After amassing a fortune selling goods to settlers as they trekked west, Shaw bought that desolated land and spent the rest of his days developing it into what is now the Missouri Botanical Garden.

I visited there recently with Mary Hendron, director of public relations for the St. Louis Convention & Visitor Commission. Ms. Hendron couldn't hold back her enthusiasm as she wheeled her car into the garden's parking lot. Leaning toward me, she said in a stage whisper, "We're not supposed to have a favorite place [in St. Louis], but this is mine."

Ms. Hendron's favorite place is hardly her little secret. Some 750,000 visitors stroll through these 79 acres of manicured grounds each year.

They walk beneath the shade of more than 4,000 trees and along the dappled sunny paths of a vast variety of horticultural delights.

Just beyond the entrance, and past the Gladney Rose Garden, a long, narrow reflecting pool stretches toward the round Climatron like some giant exclamation point.

The dark pool is dotted with waterlilies in vibrant pinks, violets, yellows, whites, and blues that, with a little imagination, resemble giant cups of Chinese porcelain set on a black lacquered table.

Tall columns rising above the water are topped with dancing, winged musician figures from the studio of the great Swedish sculptor Carl Milles.

Not far away at the end of the pool, the Climatron, a large, ethereal-looking geodesic dome, which resembles a giant dandelion clock, beckons.

Inside, the humidity matches the air of a steamy St. Louis summer.

But there the similarity ends.

Here one enters the dense, tropical world of a rain forest. Towering palm trees, giant ferns, and exotic orchids press bark to branch to reach for the sun. Damp paths lead through trails of velvety mosses and an endless tangle of jungle greenery, bridges, pools, and waterfalls.

Bright yellow birds whistle as they fly deftly between the maze of growth that is their home.

The dome, clearly inspired by Buckminster Fuller, has been named one of the 100 most significant architectural achievements in US history.

Back outside, a path leads past a Lipchitz statue, "Birth of the Muses." Nearby, the Tower Grove House, Shaw's summer residence, is the centerpiece of several Victorian-era gardens. The house, furnished with period pieces, may be visited for a small fee.

Of particular interest is an herb garden on one side of the house and a parterre overlooked by Carlo Nicoli's statue of Juno, the Roman goddess of women and childbirth, a gift from Mr. Shaw, the perennial bachelor. A number of gold Victorian gazing balls - which have suddenly become popular again - mirror the formal plantings.

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