In this small garden, laid out in a steep and unattractive place, unfertile, stuck on the air vent of the LEB (the train between Lausanne, Echallens and Bercher), and usually populated with exotic bamboo, now stands a strange memorial to open ground. Silent trees, draped in the white chalk of the orchards of old, evoke the thirty or so fruit trees that Lausanne is committed to planting every year for the next decade. Their root network calls for open ground, pretending to fall down into the grates or climbing up towards the light. You can imagine them interweaving with the LEB’s bowels, embracing the machinery, or standing tall to defy the buildings. The circular benches are an invitation to meditate in peace in the shadow of the trees’ roots and branches.