New arrivals, familiar ghosts, and the promise of a future performance.
The new arrivals swept in like a travelling troupe — fresh from the hay-strewn hold, labels stapled to their leaves like boarding passes. A little dishevelled, a little dazed, but humming with potential.
Continue reading “THE BENTON IRISES TAKE THE STAGE: GROWING CEDRIC MORRIS’S HISTORIC BEARDED IRISES”
Every single year.
You’re minding your own business, nursing your garden back to life after winter, when someone posts a photo of their roses—in full, brazen bloom—and there you are, standing in the drizzle, staring at a thorny twig and wondering if you’ve somehow offended the gods.
Not all gardens are planted. Some are held in longing, shaped by memory and softened by the knowledge that they may never fully grow in our soil. This is one such garden.
Continue reading “THE TROPICAL DREAM: DESIGNING A SUMMERHOUSE FOR EXOTIC PLANTS IN A COLD CLIMATE”Act I: Gurgles and Glories (or, The Inlet Anxiety)
Barry arrived with purpose.
Installed beside Facility Alpha (the greenhouse), he was not merely a receptacle but a vessel of destiny. Charged with the sacred duty of collecting rainwater, Barry the water butt stood alert, corpulent, and slightly bashful beneath the guttering. And when the first rains came, he responded: a shy burble here, a tentative glug there—like a nervous baritone warming up backstage.
Continue reading “THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING BARRY (A Musical in Four Acts)”
Excuse me… are you on the payroll? No? Then what, precisely, are you doing loitering at the feet of my lilies and lurking behind the hellebores like you belong here?
Continue reading “MUSING FOR TODAY – TO WEEDS EVERYWHERE”A thread for those who garden not to impress, but to express.
This is a space for gardeners who don’t simply plant—they compose. For those who see the border not as a collection, but as a composition. Here, each planting is a phrase, each bloom a breath. The garden is not a showcase—it’s a story.
Continue reading “WELCOME TO THE CULTIVATED STAGE”A declaration for those who garden with meaning, not just mulch
We are not here to conform.
We are not here to obey.
We are here to curate—to compose—through leaf and bloom, shadow and light.
THE CULTIVATED STAGE 