Seventy-nine acres of serenity in St. Louis

In understated contrast to all this fussiness is the English Woodland Garden, a quiet refuge of trees, shrubs, and ground covers that leads to a formal garden of trimmed boxwood. From the gazebo in the Boxwood Garden, you can - if you use your imagination - make out the initials of Henry Shaw spelled out in trimmed hedges.

If this garden has a centerpiece, it may well be the Japanese Garden - Seiwa-en. This "garden of pure, clear harmony and peace" is 14 acres of serene beauty encompassing a four-acre lake and a series of small islands.

Here I meet Scott McCracken, one of the gardeners. He is carefully trimming the pines and assorted conifers, snipping a bud here, a branch there, stepping back with each cut to examine his work.

"I like working in this part of the garden," he says, stopping for a moment to chat. "Japanese gardens are less fussy, more contained. More a part of nature, in patterns of shapes and forms."

Mr. McCracken stops to carefully rake the field of white stones around the rocks into the swirling patterns he had inadvertently disturbed while he worked.

Just a few yards down the path is a shallow area on the water's edge that holds a stand of lotus. The pale leaves atop six-foot stems look like green parasols left unexpectedly by a thousand fleeing geishas.

A group of animated schoolchildren lean over the rail of a bridge, dropping pellets of fish food to a large, ravenous school of giant koi.

The fish, with brilliant scales of orange, red, blue, silver, and gray, resemble a moving mosaic as they all but crawl on top of each other, their gaping mouths opening and closing as if saying, "More, more, more."

Farther around the lake, the tranquility is restored as visitors walk across a graceful drum bridge that spans the water to Teahouse Island. The island is open during the annual Japanese Festival held over Labor Day weekend.

As the days shorten, and autumn moves toward winter, the frost has begun to paint the maples in a warm red that glows through the morning mist as it rises from the water.

Nearby is the Grigg Nanjing Friendship Garden.

Smaller in size and more ornate in design than its Japanese neighbor, it is a masterpiece of Chinese-style horticulture. It is crowned by a lovely pagoda, which is reached by mosaic paths and a carved bridge over a goldfish pool.

There is so much more to see and learn on these sprawling acres, including a series of educational facilities devoted to the study and preservation of all the world's flora.

The Missouri Botanical Garden is open daily except Christmas. There is no best time to visit here; each passing week brings previously unseen wonders to light.

Many people expect that a beautiful garden should be a quiet place of solitude, reflection, and peace - a kind of organic church, if you will - a place where visitors can turn from the troubled world and seek spiritual resolve.

Thanks to Shaw's remarkable vision and generosity, it is perhaps more appropriate to think of the Missouri Botanical Garden as a cathedral.

For more information, see the garden's website, www.mobot.org, or call 800- 642-8842.

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