In an essay about playwriting, Tennessee Williams explored the difference between real life and the life of the stage - the main difference being Time. On the stage, a two hour play can span two hours, or it can span a week or a year or ten thousand years. The good playwright can freeze Time so that the message of the moment rings loud and clear while still seeming true to life and believable. [In real life, the moment often passes too quickly for us to see it and feel it fully, e.g. rushing off to work, we get a call that an acquaintance has passed away unexpectedly, and we have just enough time to tsk tsk and to scribble something about sending flowers to his wife; but later that night, after the kids are off to bed and we pour ourselves a drink, we may find our hand shaking a little and a sadness coming on, the reflections of a deeper feeling of the loss than Time will usually allow us.] "Snatching the eternal from the ever-fleeting is the great magic trick of human kind," says Williams. I think the same could be said of the fine architects and superintendants who work their craft with care, i.e. they are able to freeze Time so that the moment and the experience (the golf shot at hand, and the field of play) can be fully appreciated and yet still seem true to life and believable. Their great magic trick is creating an aura of enduring nature and eternal challenges in a context and environment that is neither enduring nor eternal. When I first learned how much work was required to keep natural looking bunkers looking natural, I was a bit saddened -- my naive little world-view shattered. Later, I came to accept the reality; and now, later still, I've come to appreciate and value it. On a golf course and for the sake of a game of golf and the experience of it, human intervention doesn't diminish that experience, it enhances it -- at least potentially, in the presence of talent and a commitment to that ideal.
Peter