FORGET THE FERRARI, THE VILLA IN TUSCANY, THE THREE-CARAT SOLITAIRE. When I fantasize about pursuing my bliss, I envision a lush, arboreal expanse with a sculpture collection that puts Versailles to shame.

This pie-in-the-sky notion took hold years ago, when I lived near the Baltimore Museum of Art. The Rodins, Calders, and Henry Moores in the museum’s outdoor Wurtzburger garden were my favorite neighbors—so graceful, so reliable, welcoming in every season. But, like me, they resided in a concrete world. I liked to think they deserved a true garden: an all-natural backdrop of trees, flowers, and shaded pathways to frame their beauty.

I began to daydream, mentally centering my favorite pieces on this emerald lawn, in that circle of evergreens. Still, barring the big lottery win, I knew my reverie required a generous bequest of real estate and an arts magnate who’d offer my pick of masterpieces. To date, that hasn’t happened.

But that’s just the scenario that occurred in Calvert County. In 1994, longtime residents and philanthropists Francis and Ann Marie Koenig donated thirty acres of waterside property in Solomons to create a spot “for the appreciation of contemporary sculpture.” Since then, Annmarie Garden has blossomed into a park and arts center that soothes the spirits of locals and visitors.

Last fall, after hearing that the garden had unveiled a new arts building, I made a visit. Just outside of Solomons, I found my destination: a drive marked by a pair of ceramic, Art Nouveau gates swirling with images of trees and water. I took that as an encouraging sign—a promise that both art and nature were honored within.

Inside, Annmarie Garden is anything but formal. More public park than manicured landscape, its walkways perk with visitors: parents pushing strollers, couples toting cameras, solo visitors and their pets (leashed, of course). Behind the shiny new arts center, which opened in May of 2008, visitors relax under umbrellas on the patio.

At the entrance circle stands the garden’s oldest installation, the bronze and granite “A Tribute to the Oyster Tonger,” by Tobias Mendez, gazing somberly beyond his shallow fountain. As I discovered, he’s in the minority here; most of Annmarie’s collection of more than thirty pieces is rough-hewn, modern, and abstract. Many works are on loan from the Smithsonian’s Hirshhorn Museum and Sculpture Garden, acquired through an affiliate program that Annmarie joined in 2003. 

That partnership, initiated by a trustee, is one of several that have helped Annmarie Garden to blossom. “Sculpture is expensive, so borrowing it is a great idea,” explains director Stacey Hann-Ruff.

Each of the artworks has its own niche along the paved paths, sheltered by a forest of hollies, pines, and maples. Some invite participation: I follow the elevated wood-and-steel platforms of A Surveyor’s Map into the woods, and rest on the stone benches of The Council Ring, which recalls the spirit of an ancient amphitheater.

Farther on, I discover The Women’s Walk, a themed grouping of six female bronzes. By turns innocent, exhausted, watchful and wise, the figures add a poignancy that their sterner neighbors lacked.

Help from the state, Calvert County, and two nonprofits, Ann’s Circle and the Koenig Foundation, has helped the garden to grow over the last six years. With their combined backing, Annmarie marshaled the resources to design and build its 15,000-square-foot, $3.5 million arts building. (If your bliss includes buying naming rights for new museums, here’s your chance.) The two-story gray structure provides space for rotating indoor shows and pieces by private artists, a cafŽ, and gift shop. Last year’s exhibitions ranged from “Olga Hirshhorn Recollects,” an exhibit of works by Picasso, Miro, and Matisse, whom created works specifically for Olga and Joseph Hirshhorn to “Sailor Made: The Art of the Woolie,” an offbeat collection of nautical needleworks. An art glass exhibit at year’s end coincided with the Garden in Lights display, an annual holiday tradition.

In the spring, Annmarie is a palette of pinks, as the garden’s extensive collection of Glenn Dale azaleas comes into flower. Scores of hybrid varieties bred for their profuse blooms line the walkways and dapple the woods, thanks to young volunteers who have planted 500 shrubs in the last decade. “It’s the prettiest time of year,” says Hann-Ruff—and a boon for photographers, too. They’re constant visitors through the peak season, which usually runs from April through June.

The garden’s former administration buildings now house the Studio School, which offers art classes for children and adults—a large part of Annmarie’s community presence, according to program and education coordinator Jaimie Jeffrey. She oversees more than fifty classes for adults and children, from preschool art experiences to three-day painting seminars.

“We’re quite proud that we’re now a little economic engine in the county,” says Hann-Ruff. “We employ artists to teach, buy their works to sell in our gift shop, and host a number of events like the fall Arts Fest, which brings many visitors each year. We didn’t set out to do it, but we’re creating jobs and attracting people to Solomons.”

I make a second circuit around the garden, enjoying an unexpected sense of homecoming. Annmarie’s sculptures, I decide, are all the better in their natural setting. They command the attention of human visitors with cool serenity, oblivious to the squeals of scampering youngsters and the sniffs of curious terriers. It’s just as I’d thought, all these years: We humans need the splendor of huge, artistic creations. All they need is the splendor of the grass.

Carol Denny writes from Arnold, Md.

Annmarie Garden. 13480 Dowell Road, Solomons, Md. 410-326-4640, annmarie-garden.org