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GREENSBORO -- Life is like a garden. That's the way Sally Pagliai sees it, anyway. And she should know.

Pagliai, (pronounced pal-e-eye), an architectectural designer, designs commercial and residential gardens. She sees her projects grow from saplings to full blooms. And sometimes -- because of drought, seasonal changes, or neglect -- they die.

It's the way life evolves. In cycles and seasons of growth, dying and rebirth.

Consider Pagliai's own life.

She grew up in northern California.

Studied architecture and environmental design in Italy, and fell in love there.

She moved back to California, where she got married.

But it's in Greensboro that she feels most rooted.

She bought her first home here and cultivated her own gardens. She raised her children here: a daughter, Bianca, and a son, Gianmarco.

And started her business, Studio Pagliai.

It's also here that she lost her husband, Stefano, to stomach cancer, nearly two years ago. He was just 45 years old. They were married 21 years.

Their dog, Rosco, died -- also from cancer -- a few months afterward. Both Rosco's and Stefano's cancer diagnosis came the same day.

Pagliai needed time and space to heal, and grow strong again.

So she took year off. To travel. Or cry when she needed to.

Now she's back. Working again.

And her gardens are almost ready to bloom.

Some of her work will be on display next weekend, as part of the Greensboro Council of Garden Clubs annual Home and Garden Tour.

"It's a rebirth of me in this industry again ... it's symbolic of a cycle," she says.

A life cycle.

* * * * * * *

Pagliai wears dirt-stained jeans, loafers and a fleece coat.

Her layered, brown hair falls loose, past her shoulders. Her fingers are absent of rings or polish. Her nails are cut short. She wears her wedding band -- and Stefano's -- on a gold chain around her neck.

She likes working outdoors, in the dirt or mud. Sometimes she rollerblades to her client's homes.

She also likes running her own business. She had a lot of jobs before working in landscaping. Cleaning houses, washing windows, babysitting and gardening. She sold stereos and worked in a lingerie department. But when you work for yourself, you have more control over how a job gets done and its outcome.

At the University of California, Berkeley she studied fine art and foreign languages. Her daughter, an art student at UNCG, shares her passion to be creative. Bianca's paintings and sculptures are prominently displayed throughout the Pagliai home.

But with gardening, the medium's not so easy to control. So much depends on unpredictable circumstances: weather, insects, even her clients.

Pagliai always felt this connection to nature.

"The earth, she has been very gracious to me," she says.

The thing about gardens is this: they are always a work in progress. Like life.

So her projects are ongoing. And through the years, many of her clients become friends.

She can drive throughout Greensboro and see her work. Sunset Hills. Irving Park. Fisher Park. New Irving Park. Elegant homes, with lush lawns and blooming plants with exotic names that roll off her tongue as easily as the names of her children.

Before moving to Greensboro, Pagliai worked for big landscape architecture corporations that handled large-scale, urban projects: hotels, office parks and retirement homes. She took on more residential landscaping projects when she started Studio Pagliai in 1996.

These are the clients who helped nurture her, when she needed it most. When Stefano was ill, they called or sent cards. They also knew when to give her space.

Pagliai continued to work through her husband's illness. She admits some denial. It just didn't seem possible that he could be so sick. Or that he could die. He was too young.

"I didn't slow down, until the very end," she says.

Neither did he. Though he stopped traveling, Stefano continued working for an Italian furniture company in High Point. And he still prepared the family's meals. Traditional Italian favorites like homemade ravioli, gnocchi and pizza. Sometimes he tried Mexican or Thai recipes.

Pagliai's clients say if you didn't know her, you'd never know what she was up against at this time. Always professional. Always there. There are good days, and there are bad days, she'd say if they asked.

When Stefano died, Pagliai felt lost -- almost handicapped -- without him.

She went to Buenos Aires, Argentina, Scotland and New York. She learned to paraglide in Santa Barbara. She'd always wanted to fly.

After a year, she felt strong enough to work again.

And her clients?

They had waited for her.

* * * * * * *

The land will speak to you if you listen.

It will reveal its potential, if you look, really look, at the landscape.

The gradation changes, the way it curves and flows.

Like a woman's body.

Pagliai believes shaping a landscape is a lot like creating music. There's rhythm, melody and harmony.

She likes to create themes, drawing inspiration from her travels.

There's more to consider when it comes to designing a residential garden. There's the existing architecture of the home, whether it's Georgian, Tudor or more contemporary.

She considers the homeowner's lifestyle and personal tastes. If they have children or pets. How frequently they travel, or if they entertain. Some like to garden, others don't.

And there are the technical considerations, such as the property's topography and drainage.

She meets a client multiple times. Sometimes she just walks the property, quietly studying it's potential, absorbing its energy.

She studies the land, looking at its actual shape, and learning which spots get the most sunlight or wind, and the areas that tend to collect water after rain.

Pagliai also likes to create garden rooms. A walkway might lead to an area showcasing a different view of the landscape or to a special plant, tree or flowering bush -- something unexpected. It's a way to create intrigue.

She incorporates art theory into her work: use of space and geometric patterns, especially circles. She likes circles because they represent cycles, continuity, endlessness.

* * * * * * *

What feeds your spirit?

For Pagliai, it's gardening. Being with friends. And though she'll turn 50 next week, she still likes to "play outside." Skiing, diving, snorkeling, paragliding and rollerblading. Or mountain biking -- an activity she and Stefano shared.

And the space she returns to when she needs spiritual nourishment: the Sacred Circle.

It's a circular spot in her garden, bordered by fragrant gardenias. The grass within the circle is soft and springy. It's Easter grass green.

When Stefano was sick, he would lie in the Sacred Circle, as friends and family prayed or meditated around him.

His funeral was held here.

And afterward, Pagliai's girlfriends would come over just to sit with her. In the Sacred Circle. Sometimes they would sing, or cry. Sometimes they just sat, quietly.

There's a hammock about eight feet above the circle. That's for Stefano. It's where he sways, looking out over them.

But the circle holds happy memories too, even during Stefano's illness.

Like the wedding of their dear friends. Guests gathered throughout the garden.

And after Stefano's funeral, there was Gianmarco's Madrigal concert.

When she has time, Pagliai comes out here just to sit and feel close to Stefano.

Pagliai encourages all of her clients to have their own version of a Sacred Circle -- a special spot in their yard or garden that's peaceful. A place to meditate or pray, to center themselves. Or maybe it's simply where they sip wine with friends.

That's what a garden should be. An oasis. A place of refuge that provides a connection to nature and the spirit of the earth.

And as in life, a garden evolves.

Contact Tina Firesheets at 373-3498 or tina.firesheets@news-record.com