This is part of a series with Perfect Earth Project, a nonprofit dedicated to toxic-free, ecological gardening, on how you can be more sustainable in your landscapes at home.
For more than two decades, Nancy Lawson has been living in harmony with deer. Sure, they’re in her Maryland yard every single day. Yes, they come to eat, rest, and, occasionally, rut. But, no, they don’t destroy her garden. In fact, it’s thriving. “We made a commitment to creating habitat for all animals,” says the nature writer, naturalist, and founder of Humane Gardener. “We manage for resilience.” Her garden is thriving.
White-tailed deer populations have soared in this century. Since we wiped out nearly all their predators (grey wolves and mountain lions) and have taken over their natural habitat (developing 95 percent of the land in the US), they look for food and shelter anywhere they can find it, and that’s often in our gardens. As a result, their public image has gone from beloved Bambi to super villain—through no fault of their own.
But it doesn’t have to be that way. Lawson shares with us how we can all happily coexist with deer.
Photography by Nancy Lawson, unless otherwise noted. (Featured photograph above by @anoldent via Flickr.)
Plant densely and employ “protector plants.”
Above: Lawson has combined tasty and less tasty plants along a pathway that deer traverse, including common sneezeweed (Helenium autumnale), blue mistflower (Conoclinium coelestinum), late boneset (Eupatorium serotinum), and American burnweed (Erechtites hieraciifolius).
Walk through a nature preserve or forest and you won’t find plants spread out like polkadots poking out of a sea of mulch. “We never put a plant out in the open by itself,” says Lawson. “It’s not how it grows in nature.” In the wild, plants grow in communities. They mingle. They intertwine. Having an array of varieties growing densely prevents any one plant from being decimated. “If there’s a big mixture that includes some less palatable plants, deer are much less likely to devour a given area,” says Lawson. “But if I have all the same species lined up for 10 feet, and it’s tasty, then that’s really easy for them to eat it all.” Think about planting as you would companion-planting in a vegetable garden, says Lawson, and mix it up.
As more garden and landscape designers aspire to create sustainable gardens, there’s one significant but often ignored aspect of sustainability they should pay attention to: hardscape materials. For most landscapes, the materials for the decks, patios, paths, and stairs will make up the vast majority of the project’s carbon footprint.
When people think of carbon footprint they often think of actions like driving a combustion engine car and flying on airplanes, but materials also possess an embodied (or upfront) carbon footprint. The “embodied” carbon is not, in fact, embodied in the material. Rather, it is an estimate of the emissions that come from making the material and shipping it. Unfortunately, some of the landscape industry’s favorite materials, including concrete and tropical hardwoods like ipe, have a high embodied carbon. (Taking in all stages of production, concrete is estimated to be responsible for 4 to 8 percent of the world’s CO2.)
“I don’t think clients are aware of the carbon footprint that concrete has,” says Sara Brunelle, co-founder of the landscape design firm Lu — La Studio, based in Cambridge, MA. “People are interested in pollinators and ecological properties, but they’re not really thinking about the material implications of their project.” However, homeowners and designers alike should consider the climate impacts of the materials they choose for their gardens.
We spoke to experts who are designing with low-carbon hardscape materials to ask them for their best advice when it comes to low-carbon hardscapes. Here’s what they said.
Want to lower the carbon footprint of your landscape? Use less hardscape material. It’ll also be better for the environment overall. “Hardscape mostly prevents water from returning to the earth—and water returning to the earth is the first thing that has to happen in order to support or create life,” says David Godshall, co-founder of Terremotto, a landscape architecture studio with offices in northern and southern California. “So, the more hardscape a garden has, the more lifeless it is.” Of course, gardens need paths, patios and the like, but Godshall encourages garden designers to ask themselves what is the minimum amount of hardscape needed to make a space useful and enjoyable to everyone, including people who are differently abled.
This is part of a series withPerfect Earth Project, a nonprofit dedicated to toxic-free, ecological gardening, on how you can be more sustainable in your landscapes at home.
“What does aesthetics have to do with ecology?” asks Joan Nassauer. Turns out a lot. A professor of landscape architecture at the University of Michigan, Nassauer has been studying how to make ecological gardens more acceptable and accessible. Several decades ago, she coined the phrase “cues to care,”which has now become a catch phrase among ecological gardeners. (Read her paper “Messy Ecosystems, Orderly Frames” and a recent review paper “Cues to Care: A Systematic Analytical Review”.)
Cues to care are the key indicators that a landscape is intentional and being looked after. Think: mown turf; visible, unimpeded windows; and prominent, recognizable flowers. Most people find these things comforting. “We want to affect human-dominated landscapes to protect and increase biodiversity, increase their capacity to store carbon, and ensure human comfort with rising temperatures,” says Nassauer. But the key to acceptance and success lies with our ability to “create landscapes people are happy to inhabit.”
The size of your property does not matter. Every bit of land can make a difference. “The 1/4 acre or even 1/8 acre is in some ways the most important, because from the standpoint of a seed, or a pollinator passing by, or a migrating bird being able to stop and rest, these small pieces all contribute to a larger matrix that is the functioning landscape,” says Nassauer.
As more people learn about the dangers of conventional landscaping with its toxic lawns and “ultra-processed plantings,” as Perfect Earth founder Edwina von Gal calls them, they’re discovering the benefits of a healthier, looser, chemical-free approach, where lawns are diminished, native plants replace unsustainable ones and are allowed to grow freely, and dead trees or snags are celebrated as sculpture. Cues to care become an important bridge linking the wildness of nature with the intentional. Nassuer notes that cues to care are “not universal, but culturally contingent.” Experiment on your own property, talk about them with your neighbors, and take some cues from these ecological designers who share with us how they show they care.
Incorporate straight lines and right angles.
Above: In her garden on Eastern Long Island, von Gal created geometric beds and filled them with an array of native plants that she lets grow freely with wild abundance. Photograph courtesy of Perfect Earth Project.
A steeply pitched lot can present a challenge for even the most seasoned garden designer. Many resort to terracing the slope to create flat ground to work within, but moving that much earth is expensive–and it deeply disturbs the site. We spoke to three garden designers who created diverse gardens on very sloped sites to learn how they handled this particular challenge. Below, these experts share their best tips, from figuring out what plants will thrive to how to keep the soil in place during establishment.
Use a “cover crop” to prevent erosion.
Above: Because of heavy invasive weed pressure, Refugia planted only grass species in the first phase of this project. This included seeding a mix of fine fescue and annual rye, before planting warm-season ornamental grasses like big bluestem, switchgrass, and little bluestem. Once weeds were under control, they added flowering perennials. Photograph by Kayla Fell, courtesy of Refugia Design.
When reimagining a residential sloped yard in Pennsylvania, Refugia Design Build first removed overgrown shrubs and a ton of invasive English ivy, leaving a lot of exposed earth. Knowing that preventing erosion would be key in the first year, they strategically seeded a mix of fine fescue and annual rye. “The annual rye served as a fast-germinating winter cover crop—a temporary tool that allowed us to get almost instant erosion control while waiting for the fescue to germinate and the rest of the plantings to be completed,” says landscape designer Amanda Branum, who was the design lead for this project. Branum notes they cut back the rye before it went to seed the following spring.
Pay attention to root structure.
California-based landscape designer Fi Campbell says she focussed on plants with “distinguished roots,” to hold the soil on the slope of a residential property in Los Angeles. In her climate, that meant native bunch grasses and Muhlenbergia (muhly grass), which have deep root systems. Campbell also used ground covers like creeping sages and coyote bush for stabilization. Shrubs, including toyon, manzanita, and various different buckwheat, help anchor the garden. Tip: Prairie Moon Nursery includes images of root structures for all the seeds and plants it sells, if you need help visualizing roots.
If you have prying neighbors or an HOA to worry about, move leaves to less visible areas, for example from front to rear, suggests Fell. “Make a pile in the corner of your yard, let it rot, and use the leaf compost later to feed your flowers,” says Camu. “Leaf compost is absolute gold, and it’s literally that easy to make: Just let it rot in a pile.”
4. Mulch some of the leaves into your lawn.
You’ll see a lot of advice to just mow leaves right into the lawn, but Chris Hardy, a senior associate at Sasaki, an interdisciplinary design firm based in Boston, cautions against doing this. “When fall leaf drop happens, the density of the leaves is more than lawns can handle,” he says. “If you have a lot of leaves in your lawn, I would capture that in a bag and then spread it in your perennial areas instead.” Hardy also notes that he skips mowing even a light layer of leaves into grass because he likes to let grass grow long in the fall so it can maximize its storage of sugars over the winter. In other seasons, go ahead and mow right over a light leaf litter, but be sure you have a mulching mower (sometimes you need to buy a special blade.)
5. Rake selectively.
Above: Paths should be cleared of leaves, which turn slick and slippery in wet weather.
To ensure your yard looks cared for, rake the leaves from the most visible or used lawn areas, like the front yard, says Fell, adding. “It’s also important to move leaves from entryways and paths for safety as the weather worsens.”
6. Then put the leaves into garden beds.
You can use the whole leaves in some of your beds as mulch. Hardy suggests, “Any place where you’re putting down mulch as a weed suppressant is a great candidate to leave your leaves whole in place; for instance, under hedges, underneath shrubby landscapes, or in tree pits.” That said, do not lay whole leaves over places where you’re trying to get a perennial understory going.
7. Use caution when covering perennial beds.
In spring, Fell says she tries to remember where new plants or spring ephemerals are and moves leaves aside, so as not to inhibit their growth. Further north, Hardy says he avoids using whole leaves in perennial beds altogether, because when snow presses down on leaves, it can create a tightly-knit layer that can smother smaller perennials and groundcovers. Instead, he shreds leaves and scatters them amongst perennials.
Truthfully, I drink no less than five cups of tea a day. I rotate between different blends, depending on the season and my health needs. So when I learned that my favorite organic tea company, Traditional Medicinals, was just a short 20-minute drive from my house, I knew I needed to visit their demonstration garden to learn how to grow herbs for making my own teas. I have no intention to stop buying tea; I simply want to be more experimental and self-sufficient—and have a little farm-to-cup experience of my own.
I asked Abbey Ramirez, head gardener at Traditional Medicinals (which, by the way, celebrates its 50th anniversary this year), about the best herbs to grow in the home garden. Her response:”I picked eight herbs with feasibility, seasonality, safety, and frequency of use in mind. These herbs are all beginner-friendly to grow, generally safe to use, can be cultivated in containers or in the ground, and are relatively easy to dry and store for later use.” Sounds perfect to me. Please keep reading to learn more.
NOTE: Although these herbs are generally known to be safe, always doublecheck the safety of consuming any plants if you’re pregnant, breastfeeding, or have any medical conditions.
“Calendula is tougher than it looks!” says Abbey. “It grows in a variety of soils but will fare best in soil with good drainage and does better with a weekly deep watering rather than frequent light water.” It prefers full sun but tolerates part sun, requiring at least five hours a day. And even though this plant grows in zones 3-11, it is considered an annual in zones 3-8 and behaves as a semi-evergreen perennial in zones 9-11. If you’re lucky, your calendula could bloom year-round. Bonus: Bees adore it.
Good for: digestive issues such as heartburn and peptic ulcers Plant part used: flowers Tea: fresh or dry How: 1-2 tbsp or 2-4 flowers in 1 cup of hot water for 10-15 minutes Food: fresh (petals only) or dry How: Use in salads, soups, cooked greens, baked goods, or as a garnish (best uncooked for nutritional value).
“Marshmallow has a soothing and lofty presence in the garden,” says Abbey. It needs moisture-retaining soil but also good drainage to avoid root rot. “If planted in full sun, this plant needs more water, but if it is in partial shade, one could get away with less water (this depends on your soil’s drainage and water retention).” Marshmallow grows as a deciduous woody perennial in zones 3-9, and Abbey recommends pruning back two-thirds every winter after it reaches maturity.
Good for: throat, respiratory, and digestive troubles Plant part used: roots, leaves, and flowers Tea: fresh or dry (roots only) How: 1-2 tbsp ground or chopped in 1 cup of hot water for 10-15 minutes (or same ratio in room temperature water overnight) Food: fresh or dry How: Use flowers in salads, baked goods, or garnish; use leaves in soups or sautéed with other greens.
Above: Photograph by Kier Holmes, taken at Traditional Medicinals.
Says Abbey: “Chamomile is a joyful and bee-friendly addition to a medicinal garden.” Though it craves full sun, this plant needs well-draining soil with decent water retention and consistent light drinks of water. Chamomile grows in zones 4-11 and can continuously bloom from April to August. Abbey adds, “This plant is strictly an annual, but I have found it is a prolific re-seeder and will likely propagate itself year to year if left alone to drop its seeds and complete its full lifecycle.”
Good for: sleep, relaxation, and digestion Plant part used: flowers Tea: fresh (stronger, more bitter) or dry (traditional, lighter, and more floral) How: 1-2 tbsp or 6-12 flowers in 1 cup of hot water for 10-15 minutes Food: Fresh or dry How: Use fresh as garnish only, as the flowers are quite bitter; ground dry flowers into powder for baked goods.
The new book A Year in Bloom has a great premise: Ask some of the world’s top garden people to talk about their favorite bulbs, thus solving one of gardeners’ biggest dilemmas—which of the many, many bulbs out there to plant. And the beautifully packaged results come as a relief, as the trend is mainly toward less artifice and less effort when it comes to bulbs.
Written and compiled by Lucy Bellamy (former editor of Gardens Illustrated) and photographed by Jason Ingram (the best in the business), the book’s contributors offer insights that make for a fun read. Not all of their comments made it into the book—and we have some of them here. Let’s take a look.
Above: Narcissus ‘Bath’s Flame’ and N. ‘White Lady’.
Daffodils that look like they might have been shown at the RHS exhibition halls in Westminster 100 years ago are the ones with the right look, and yellow is not to be shied away from. Of Narcissus ‘Bath’s Flame’ (above left), Lucy writes, “Over recent years there has been a trend for more delicate forms of narcissus that sit easily in semi-wild plantings, and ‘Bath’s Flame’ is at once just wild and just cultivated enough.”
Narcissus ‘White Lady’ was chosen by admired Irish plantsman Jimi Blake, who told Lucy: “This variety was originally grown as a cut flower back in 1898. It’s pure elegance on a stem, with its pristine white petals and soft yellow cup with a delicious scent. I grow this in a border with other simple narcissus such as ‘Polar Ice’, ‘Thalia’ and ‘Segovia’. The other nominee for N. ‘White Lady’ was your own Gardenista correspondent—me. They were in the old-fashioned cottage garden of my elderly next door neighbor, and they began to drift into mine, with some help.
Above: Crocus sieberi ‘Firefly’ with ruffed yellow Eranthis hyemilis (winter aconite), planted in the perfect setttng, amid leaf litter from the previous autumn.
Lucy points out that bulbs that are good for naturalizing also look quite “natural.” Crocus are small, and they shine in the low-key surroundings of dried leaves, and under the bare limbs of shrubs and trees. There is no need to bundle up the leaves of daffodils after flowering, or tie them into neat knots; the simpler forms tend to have more demure foliage, which disappears into lengthening grass as the season progresses. It’s best to leave them alone anyway, so that seeds can disperse, and bulbs can spread underground. When they appear year on year, they are “emulating the patterns they make in nature.”
Above: Narcissus bulbocodium and N. pseudonarcissus.
The hooped petticoat-shape of Narcissuc bulbocodium is the same yellow hue as other spring flowers, including daffodils, but its character is altogether different. Described by California landscape designer Ron Lutsko as “steadfast and cheerful,” it benefits from being away from the throng. “It is best grown in pots as a single-species group, to give the opportunity of closely observing the flowers.”
Delightfully named Narcissus pseudonarcissus is the diminutive wild daffodil of the Wye Valley and Welsh Borders, and it’s also the “go-to choice” for Sissinghurst’s head gardener, Troy Scott Smith. James Basson, garden designer and a Chelsea Flower Show star who is based in the French Alpes-Maritimes, says: “These daffodils revel in the stone cracks of karst landscapes [featuring eroded limestone], and they push through the snow to shout out in bright yellow.” This was the second most nominated bulb.
Above: Crocus tommasinianus and Erythronium ‘Joanna’.
If Wednesday Addams were a floral designer, her arrangements would look like Emily Thompson’s: dripping, clambering, creeping, amorphous, and alive despite being very much dead. We’ve covered Emily’s inimitable installations and arrangements for more than a decade, and not once have we used the word “bouquet” (too neat, too colorful) to describe her work. Instead, we used words like “wild and witchy,” “breathtaking,” and, in a moment of extreme understatement “mundane it is not.” Her knack for turning foliage and flowers into arresting forms likely stems from her background as a sculptor and artist before “falling into the medium of flowers,” she says.
Today, the New York City-based designer shares the garden books she returns to time and again (both are fiction!), the plant on her wish list that bears flowers resembling field mice, and the trick to long-lasting cut flowers.
Photography courtesy of Emily Thompson.
Above: Emily “strives to emphasize botanical materials that are disrespected and underlooked, championing the non-commercial and idiosyncratic.”
Your first garden memory:
I remember lying on the lichen-encrusted rocks of my first childhood home. Giant glacial boulders were covered in “British soldiers.” Tiny worlds for warring battalions.
Garden-related book you return to time and again:
The Baron in the Trees by Italo Calvino. Elspeth Barker’s O Caledonia.
Above: A floral installation for Jason Wu at Fashion Week last year.
Graphic, jurassic, idiosyncratic.
Favorite go-to plant:
Farfugium.
Plant that makes you want to run the other way:
Rose of Sharon.
Plant that makes you swoon:
Above: A twiggy arrangement of fritillaries and begonia held together by “brambling,” an underwater nest of woody stems. Emily avoids using non-biodegradable floral foam, reaching for floral frogs, chicken wire, or natural structure (as in this photo) instead. See Design Sleuth: Flowers Without Foam for more of her thoughts on the topic.
I thought I had a shade garden. My shade plants proceeded to fry.
Unpopular gardening opinion:
Colorful flowers are overrated.
Gardening or design trend that needs to go:
While tastes in gardens seem to have moved away from impatience borders, in cut flowers I find most people are painfully stuck in highly commercial design where the flowers look aggressively store-bought. The majestic prairies that have entered our garden lexicon should find their way to the vase.
Favorite gardening hack:
I’ll offer a cut flower tip: boil your stems. After a fresh cut, a minute in boiling water will revive and prolong the life of many (nay, most) stems.
This is my job, so I like to do something understated. A sprig or a weed.
Every garden needs a…
Stone wall. I’m mad for rocks.
Favorite hardscaping material:
Rocks from my family’s mountainside home in the Northeast Kingdom of Vermont.
Tool you can’t live without:
My giant pole lopper, though sometimes I get over-zealous.
Go-to gardening outfit:
I wear whatever I had on that day and ruin it.
Favorite nursery, plant shop, or seed company:
My friends at Landcraft and Issima bring me unmatched treasures. [See our Quick Takes with Issima founder Taylor Johnston here.] I recently discovered Mount Venus Nursery in Dublin. And the soon-to-be The Field Nursery in the Cotswolds that I cannot wait to experience.
This is part of a series with Perfect Earth Project, a nonprofit dedicated to toxic-free, nature-based gardening, on how you can be more sustainable in your landscapes at home.
“New York City has a secret,” says urban ecologist and founder of NYC Wildflower Week Marielle Anzelone. “The Big Apple boasts more open space than any major city in the United States; more than Los Angeles, Chicago, and Philadelphia combined. Even Manhattan, known for its taxi cabs and towering skyscrapers, has rare beetles and 150-year-old tulip trees. The five boroughs collectively host over 40 percent of the state’s rare and endangered plant species.”
And yet New York City, along with most of the developed world, is in the midst of a biodiversity emergency. In response, a number of major international metropolises—San Francisco, Paris, Singapore, Freetown, Sydney, São Paulo, to name just a few—have adopted biodiversity plans to devote resources to address the problem, but New York City has not. “It’s the only major global city without a comprehensive biodiversity plan,” says urban forester and founder of Local Nature Lab Georgia Silvera Seamans, PhD., who along with Anzelone, is on a mission to get the city’s government to change that. With the goal of “increasing access to nature and protecting and restoring biodiversity and natural habitats,” they launched the New York City Biodiversity Task Force earlier this year. This coalition includes field biologists, environmental justice organizations, civic institutions, and nonprofits, including Perfect Earth Project, representing all five boroughs. “To be truly resilient, New York City needs a clear ecological mandate,” says Anzelone.
Silvera Seamans and Anzelone believe that ecology is an underutilized urban resource. They want to see “biodiversity elevated to match the scale and urgency of climate concerns in the city,” arguing that investments in biodiversity can “beautify and cool neighborhoods, support pollinators, boost mental health, advance environmental justice, and deliver nature-based solutions for climate action.” Healthy, functioning ecosystems are essential to the air we breathe and the food we eat. I spoke with them to learn five simple things we can all do in our communities to help protect biodiversity.
1. Take a walk in nature.
Above: A Rusty Blackbird takes a splash in Central Park. Sadly, this bird’s population has declined by 75 percent from 1966 to 2019, according to the North American Breeding Bird Survey, due in part to mercury contamination and habitat loss. To address the global extinction crisis, the United Nations Convention on Biological Diversity, a multinational treaty, has been ratified by nearly all UN members, except the United States. Later this month, countries around the world will meet for CBD’s COP16 in Colombia. Photograph by Eric Ozawa.
This is part of a series with Perfect Earth Project, a nonprofit dedicated to toxic-free, nature-based gardening, on how you can be more sustainable in your landscapes at home.
We all know our choices matter. What we buy, where we shop, whom we vote for—and how we garden. But how do we know what to choose? “We typically think of gardening as a neutral activity,” says Tim Johnson, the CEO of Native Plant Trust. “But over the years, I’ve come to realize that gardening can be a radical activity. It anchors our attention and connects us to a place, making us keenly aware of where we are.” As more gardeners are interested in following sustainable practices, it’s helpful to understand why these practices are important and how they impact our greater community. Perfect Earth Project talked with Johnson recently about what ethical horticulture means, what you can do to “put the landscape back together,” and how to embrace your inner garden radical.
Photography courtesy of Native Plant Trust.
The interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.
Above: “Although Native Plant Trust is known as a scientific-minded organization, I think in reality, our work is about helping people connect their hearts to the natural world,” says Johnson. The plantings in the Curtis Woodland at the Native Plant Trust’s Garden in the Woods, does just that—showcasing a romantic combination of native blooms in spring that’s sure to captivate the hearts of visitors. Photograph by Ngoc Minh Ngo.
Q: How can you be an ethical gardener?
A: We can approach gardening at two ends of a spectrum. We can treat it like an engineering activity, where we’re sort of installing a thing and then trying to hold the thing static. Or we can see it as an extension of our community and self. If we think about what’s important to us, there are opportunities within the garden to live our personal ethics.
I am hopeful that gardeners as a collective are working towards what’s intrinsically better for the environment—moving away from synthetic fertilizers towards soil management or skipping high maintenance cultivars for lower maintenance native plants, for example. The choices I make in the garden are an extension of the choices I make as a consumer, as an omnivore, as a citizen.
Q: How should you go about choosing plants?
A: I first ask myself, what am I looking for a plant to do in the landscape? And generally, this means how attractive is it, what is its shape, and what is its form? But I’m also thinking about the ecological function that a specific plant brings. For example, I have minimal shade, really sandy soil at my home, and really terrible grass. Part of the reason I have really terrible grass is because I refuse to do the traditional thing of keeping it a monoculture by fertilizing and applying herbicides to it and watering it constantly. And so that means that crabgrass moves in and things get challenging. Instead of moving backwards towards chemical-based turf science in the landscape, I am asking, what does my landscape need to thrive?
I’m thinking about three things. For one, adding strategic shade throughout my landscape because more shade means less watering. Two, what are the plants that are going to survive in my sandy soil? Instead of trying to fertilize, I can find plants that work well in a low-resource environment, like prairie dropseed. And lastly I’m thinking about lawn removal. I’ve been planting micro clover, which is a nitrogen fixer, and is also more drought-tolerant than turf grass. Plus, it looks fantastic.
The ethics behind this is I want to reduce resources, mainly the amount of water that’s going into my landscape. I also don’t want to use chemical fertilizers. I want to stick with primarily compost-based ones. In the long run, I’m thinking about the places where I need fertility, how to use plants to develop that fertility over time, and plan for a succession in the garden.
Above: In the summer, Ironweed (Vernonia noveboracensis) attracts butterflies, like this skipper. In the fall, birds will feast on its seeds. “We see huge improvements in the ability of gardens to support wildlife and pollinators in a landscape that is at least 70 percent composed of natives. That number allows me to have, say, Itoh peonies, while I add nitrogen fixing native honey locusts or red buds in my yard,” says Johnson. “I can have the benefit of all these native plant species, which are supporting our native fauna and the region’s ecological processes, and also get all the showiness that I want from a landscape.” Photograph by Uli Lorimer.
If you’re lucky enough to have a garden in a big city, you learn to accept the fact that while you’re out there, you’re in full view of everyone whose windows overlook your yard. Hanging an awning over your entire backyard or planting a tree big enough to screen everything isn’t a good option, since usually, getting the light you need to grow things is already a challenge.
So what are the best ways to make a small urban garden feel more private—or at least to create the illusion of privacy? For advice, we asked landscape designer Susan Welti, a partner in the Brooklyn-based Foras Studio. Susan has designed countless urban spaces; two of her gardens appear in our Gardenista book.
Here are some of her ideas to create privacy in a small city backyard.
Photography by Matthew Williams for Gardenista, except where noted.
Above: An eastern white pine tree draws the eye away from the neighbors’ houses in a Brooklyn garden designed by Foras Studio.
Is it really possible to have privacy in an outdoor city garden?
Let’s admit that it’s almost impossible to create as much privacy as you might want. “There are so many buildings surrounding you, and they’re so much bigger than you,” Susan says. “But while you can’t block out the buildings, what you can do is to create something beautiful and compelling that will hold the eye within the confines of the site, and make you feel enclosed and secure.”
Above: The neighbors’ Japanese maple trees (at right) create a bower and privacy barrier.
How can you use trees to create privacy?
“You can’t just throw in a big tree to block the view, because that also blocks the light,” says Susan. “In most city gardens there are trees in your sightline, but they’re often really big—such as oaks or maples or ailanthus. It’s nice to put in a tree that’s a more human scale. We use a lot of fruit trees—crab apple, dwarf apple, even pomegranate and fig. These all flower, which is always nice.”
Susan also recommends small understory trees like Chionanthus virginicus, known as “old man’s beard”; Amelanchier x grandiflora ‘Autumn Brilliance’ (serviceberry); and Magnolia virginiana—native magnolia or sweetbay. And if you’re not going for bloom, consider a Japanese maple—“They fit beautifully into a pared-back grassy landscape.”
Above: A row of small hornbeam trees (Carpinus caroliniana) are pruned tightly to create a flat screen against a fence.
What are the best trees for fence-line privacy?
When space is at a premium, Susan often uses trees that are pleached—trained and clipped to grow on a flat plane, like an espalier.
“Pleached trees are a powerful visual element, and you can control where they canopy out,” she says. Susan’s choice is hornbeam(Carpinus caroliniana), a native tree that takes well to pruning; she buys them already started off from Brooklyn’s Urban Arborists. “Pleached trees don’t bloom; it’s more about the shape and the beauty of the foliage.”
Can vines and climbers be used to create privacy?
“Vines are great for adding a green layer to a fence or pergola,” says Susan. “For an airy look, you want plants that have some visual porosity. We use Wisteria frutescens ‘Amethyst Falls,’ a native plant that’s less vigorous than Chinese or Japanese wisteria, and has a nice bloom.” For other flowering vines, she recommends clematis, honeysuckle, and crossvine, such as Bignonia capreolata ‘Tangerine Beauty.’ To create a wall of green, Susan suggests the vigorous, shade-tolerant Akebia ‘Shirobana’—but be aware that it’s considered invasive in some areas, so check with local authorities before planting, and be prepared to monitor its growth carefully.
Rebecca McMackin is an “ecologically obsessed horticulturist and garden designer” (her description) and an incredibly engaging, deeply knowledgeable plant nerd (ours). (Just check out her Ted Talk entitled “Let Your Garden Grow Wild” from earlier this year.) As Arboretum Curator for Woodlawn Cemetery, she manages one of the best tree collections in New York State. And as a garden designer, she creates inspired landscapes that make both people and pollinators happy. In fact, her garden for the Brooklyn Museum, a collaboration with Quick Takes alum Brook Klausing, just won the Perennial Plant Association’s Award of Excellence, in part because of its use of native plants to create habitats for the birds and bees.
We’ve interviewed Rebecca before (see 9 Radical Ways to Face Climate Change), and today, we’re thrilled to be able to share her perspective again, Below, the biodiversity crusader talks about her love for spying on bugs (“so much drama”), her admiration for dead wood (“so hip, so helpful”), and her disdain for orange Rudbeckia (agreed!).
Above: Rebecca hails from Connecticut—and still lives there. “I feel like the state motto should be “Connecticut: we NEVER don’t have Aerosmith on the radio.” Photograph by Caitlin Atkinson.
Your first garden memory:
I had my first garden when I was 6. I grew up on a small farm in Connecticut, where we gardened as a way of life. I grew carrots and Celosia. I remember how sweet the carrots were. You just can’t buy carrots as good as you can grow them.
Garden-related book you return to time and again:
Carol Gracie was a mentor to me. I had read Spring Wildflowers of the Northeast, had my mind completely blown, and promptly began a respectful stalking mission that resulted in years of friendship. Carol was a marvelous observer and her books taught me to see flowers differently. They weren’t about plants in the traditional sense. They were written from the plant’s perspective. Carol explored what flowers were doing with their lives. She shared not only how they were shaped but why, who they were trying to attract, and how the plants communicated. I’ve read her books countless times and use them as references often. Truly the best ever.
Instagram account that inspires you:
I love Adrian Smith’s account: @dradriansmith. He does the simplest thing—taking slow-motion videos of insects taking off from a table—and it’s just glorious. There’s so much drama. The clumsiness of beetles, the leap of a moth, the absolute miracle that something like an oak treehopper can actually get airborne after spinning around three times. It’s hilariously entertaining, but also helps people understand that these animals live full lives, with struggles and victories.
Euonymus alatus. Why is it legal to sell this plant? How broken is horticulture that we can’t phase out plants causing actual harm. Get this guy out of the trade already.
Favorite go-to plant:
Aquilegia canadensis. Adorable. functional. Adaptable. and charismatic.
Hardest gardening lesson you’ve learned:
Above: Tiarella cordifolia and Viola sororia, both native plants, at the Brooklyn Bridge Park, where Rebecca spent a decade as Director of Horticulture. Photograph by Rebecca McMackin.
Less is more. I hate this one. I want all the plants in every garden. But they really speak to people much more when there are only a few flowers blooming at a time.
Vines can hide an ugly fence or add beauty to trellis or doorways. When grown over an arbor or pergola, they can create shade. But when gardeners think of vines, the first thing that comes to mind may be imported ones like Japanese and Chinese wisteria, English Ivy, or the dreaded oriental bittersweet, which can all be difficult to get rid of (and have notoriously escaped our gardens and aggressively displaced native plants in the wild). There are many native vines, though, that can play a useful part in your garden scheme.
Christina Koether, a backyard flower farmer, florist, and garden designer behind Nomadica in Weston, Connecticut, notes that tastes and awareness are gradually shifting: In October, for example, it will be illegal to sell both Japanese wisteria (Wisteria floribunda) and Chinese wisteria (Wisteria sinensis) in Connecticut. As a result, she says, “I think we will see native vines like Aristolochia macrophylla and Lonicera sempervirens become more popular again.”
Here are 11 native vines that garden professionals are using in their designs:
Looking for a native vine to cover an ugly deer fence on the woodland edge of her property, Koether decided to try planting a pipevine (Aristolochia macrophylla), whose heart-shaped leaves were a favorite in Victorian gardens until favor shifted toward the imported Chinese and Japanese wisterias for their showier flowers. “Pipevine—it’s one of my favorite native vines,” says Koether, who admits that technically, it’s native to areas slightly further south than Connecticut, where she gardens. “But I rolled the dice when I bought them, knowing the butterfly that relies on it would likely start coming further north as temperatures increase each year.” Sure enough, this year, Koether watched pipevine swallowtail butterflies lay eggs on the vine, which hatched into caterpillars. In addition to being the host plant for the pipevine swallowtails, who rely on this plant to survive, Koether appreciates the playful pipe-shaped flowers in the springtime.
Out on the west coast, Andrea Hurd, the founder of Mariposa Gardening & Design Cooperative in Oakland, California, points to the California native pipevine (Aristolochia californica), which has larger, distinctive purple-striped, pipe-shaped flowers. “We have a garden where it has gotten well-established,” she says. According to the California Native Plant Society, this plant is common in moist woods and along streams in northern and central California. Like its cousin Aristolochia macrophylla, it is the host plant for the pipevine swallowtail, and there are other regional Aristolochia to explore, depending on where you garden.
Not to be confused with Japanese honeysuckle (Lonicera japonica), which is considered invasive in most states, coral honeysuckle (Lonicera sempervirens) is native to the southeast and grows as far north as Maine and inland to the midwest—and is a favorite of several garden pros. Gena Wirth, a landscape architect and partner at SCAPE’s New York office, recently moved into a home in Brooklyn with a large fence that backs onto a subway corridor, on which she is experimenting with a number of native vines, including coral honeysuckle. “Lonicera sempervirens is such an easy-to-grow, adaptable plant that thrives in full and part sun environments,” says Wirth. “I love planting it in arches and garden windows, as its flowers reach for the light.” Koether notes that she also likes to use cuttings of both the greens and the flowers in her floristry work.
If you want to attract hummingbirds, look to trumpet vine (Campis radicans) and its orange, trumpet-shade flowers. It’s native to eastern North America, as far north as Ohio and South Dakota. Fast- and high-growing, trumpet vine has a reputation for being aggressive (great if you want it to screen a fence), but the experts from the Brooklyn Botanic Garden, in their guide Great Natives for Tough Places, say that it can be controlled with pruning if you want to contain its vigor.
Frances Palmer is an art historian who, over the past few decades, has come to make enduring art herself: handmade ceramics that straddle the line between delicate and functional, refined and rustic. Her instant classics are coveted and collected by those in the know (including tastemakers like Martha Stewart and the late Nora Ephron), and they’ve been shown and sold internationally at galleries and exhibitions. But if you take a look at her Instagram page, you’ll find that she has another obsession that may just rival her love for the potter’s wheel: flowers. When she’s not crafting vases, plates, and bowls in her studio (next to her 1860 federal-style house in Weston, Connecticut), she’s likely puttering around her tennis court-turned-flower garden. In fact, her second book, out May 2025, is “dedicated to the subject of flowers in my work,” she tells us.
Below, Frances shares the natural bug spray recipe she uses on her roses and citrus plants, the garden books she treasures, and more. (And if you’re in London, be sure to check out her latest exhibition, Pedestal Considerations, at the Garden Museum from October 8 through December 20).
Sitting in a dogwood tree at the edge of our yard where I grew up in Morristown, New Jersey. My neighbor grew many roses, but I wasn’t allowed into her garden to see them, so I would sit in the tree and gaze at them from above. I always felt like Rapunzel yearning to get in and smell the buds. In our garden, my mother grew peonies, tomatoes and zinnias, very practical but not as alluring as the forbidden roses.
Above: Voluptuous blooms in what she calls “The Round Garden” on her property.
Exuberant. Functional. Somewhat chaotic.
Plant that makes you swoon:
So many—fritillaria, tulips, bearded iris, roses, peonies, dahlias.
Plant that makes you want to run the other way:
I can’t think of one. All flowers have something redeeming about them and one must be open to learning what that is. Maybe more commercially produced flowers don’t have as much soul as home- or farm-grown ones?
Favorite go-to plant:
Above: Dahlias from Frances’ garden, in bud vases from her kiln.
I love bearded iris, roses, tulips, rudbeckias, amaranth, zinnias and dahlias.
Gardening or design trend that needs to go:
I think that people are finally learning to garden without pesticides and how to strive for healthy soil.
Old wives’ tale gardening trick that actually works:
My friend Connie taught me a natural spray for roses and citrus: juice of 2 lemons, 2 tablespoons of potassium, 2 tablespoons of cayenne or cinnamon, 1 liter of water—and spray over the leaves. Good for fungus and bugs.
Every gardening year is different and things can be out of your control. It is most important to be kind to yourself and the flowers and try again the next season.
Favorite gardening hack:
I love to fill in bare spots in the garden with coleus. They spread out quickly and add lots of late season color.
This is part of a series with Perfect Earth Project, a nonprofit dedicated to toxic-free, nature-based gardening, on how you can be more sustainable in your landscapes at home.
“We have declared 2024 the year of milkweed,” says Andi Pettis, director of horticulture at Governors Island. For the past couple of years, Pettis and her team have been busy incorporating milkweed into the island’s plantings. They’re focusing on the three species native to the ecoregion: butterfly weed (Pettis’s favorite because of the “incredible variation in color from golden yellow to almost scarlet”), mauvy common milkweed, and hot pink swamp milkweed. Her goal is to finish planting 5,000 milkweed plants this year. “Showing the relationship between monarch butterflies and milkweed is an easy way for us to connect people to the benefits of native plants and show them why it’s important to support wildlife even in an urban environment.” The efforts have paid off. They’ve been noticing more and more monarchs on the island. You’ve heard it before: If you plant it, they really do come. (See Monarch Butterflies Are Nearing Extinction: 5 Ways to Help.)
Planting milkweed is just one of the many initiatives that Pettis and her team are doing to bolster biodiversity. “Climate resiliency and sustainability were sort of baked into the design of the park,” she says. Created by the design firm West 8, with Mathews Nielson Landscape Architects, the park features 120 acres of hills, meadows, and forests in the middle of New York Harbor. “It was a reuse project really—an old military base turned into a public space with new parks,” she said. “But there was no horticulture staff when I was hired [six years ago].” Pettis, who trained at Brooklyn Botanic Garden and had risen through the ranks at The High Line to become director of horticulture before moving to Governors Island, had to build a team from scratch and began to rehabilitate areas where maintenance had been deferred for years. Today, she and her team have introduced 52 native plant species to the island, planted habitat for butterflies and birds, and brought in sheep to tame the rampant spread of invasive species. “We’re working with nature here,” she says. “It’s not a short fix, but it’s working. We’re in this for the long haul.”
Pettis talks about this bustling and beautiful urban island park and shares how they’re bringing biodiversity back. [This interview has been condensed and edited for clarity.]
Photography by Sarma Ozols, unless otherwise noted.
Q: How are you gardening for biodiversity?
Above: Governors Island is doing what they can to help increase the dwindling monarch population by planting milkweed, the insect’s main food source. Here, in the milkweed demonstration garden in Liggett Terrace, several different pollinator-friendly native plants grow together including Asclepias tuberosa (Butterfly weed), Asclepias incarnata (Swamp milkweed), Agastache foeniculum (Anise hyssop), Phlox paniculata ‘Jeana’ (Garden phlox), and Echinacea purpurea ‘White Swan’ (Coneflower).
A: The park was designed for sustainability and climate resilience. West 8 built hills and these kinds of swales and berms to raise part of the park out of the 100-year floodplain. Working with Matthews Nielsen, they created a lot of naturalistic areas based on coastal maritime plant communities and filled the park with a lot of native trees. I think there are 53 different species of native trees planted on the South Island alone!
We have made it clear that we are choosing plants that mimic our coastal maritime shrublands and grasslands native plant communities. We’re also focusing on those that benefit biodiversity and wildlife. In areas where we have managed to retake the land with these native plant communities, we’ve seen huge upticks in the native insect populations.
Q: How are you adapting to our changing climate?
Above: When you walk along the pathways on the 70-foot high Outlook Hill, you’re immersed in plants like the fragrant native shrub Clethra alnifolia ‘Ruby Spice’ (right) and the red fruiting Viburnum opulus (Guelder-rose).
A: As temperatures warm, we are definitely experimenting with plants that would be considered more Southern. For example, we are considering planting live oaks on the island. We are also growing pawpaws, persimmons, and magnolias that are all doing really very well.
We are longtime admirers of Austin-based landscape architect Christine Ten Eyck—so much so that her works are featured in both of our books: 2016’s Gardenista: The Definitive Guide to Stylish Outdoor Spaces and our upcoming The Low-Impact Garden (in bookstores fall 2025). She has deep roots in Texas, and her landscape designs—artful, rambunctious, ecology-based, perfectly imperfect—celebrate the region’s rich plant diversity. Current projects include a campus transformation plan for University of Texas at Permian Basin and a new master plan for the Lady Bird Wildflower Center.
Below, Christine reveals her best gardening hack, favorite public garden (it’s not in Texas!), and more.
Your first garden memory:
Above: Christine, with her first ever catch, at her grandparents’ lake house. Photograph courtesy of Christine Ten Eyck.
My grandparent’s vegetable garden at their lake house. We would go fishing and my grandpa would put everything he cleaned out of the fish back into the garden soil. I was fascinated! He grew the biggest tomatoes.
Above: Christine swapped a lawn and driveway for tiered garden beds. “Our neighbors think we are nuts living in our own wild native habitat—but we love it,” she wrote in an Instagram post. Photograph by Marion Brenner.
Tough, wild, immersive.
Favorite go-to plant:
Eupatorium havanensis.
Plant that makes you want to run the other way:
Invasives like King Ranch Bluestem, Arrundo, Vinca major.
Plant that makes you swoon:
Above: A Rusty Blackhaw in bloom on Christine’s property. Photograph by Christine Ten Eyck.
Rusty Blackhaw Viburnum.
Hardest gardening lesson you’ve learned:
The garden will not always look perfect.
Unpopular gardening opinion:
People need to appreciate resilient gardens that wither, turn brown and gold in response to drought.
A mirror of water and the simpler the better—think about the brimming bowls of the Alhambra in Grenada, Spain.
Favorite way to bring the outdoors in.
Big windows with gray green painted mullions.
Favorite hardscaping material:
Above: “The entry to our house where a driveway used to go right over the tree roots at the base. We created a sedge frame around this spectacular live oak,” says Christine. Photograph by Marion Brenner.
Above: Christine is an avid traveler. Here she is in Monterey, Mexico.
It brings me joy, exercise, and a sense of accomplishment. It is meditative and restorative for me to prune, rake, and just be immersed in the garden along with all the birds and butterflies.
When we asked Christin Geall for “the real reason she gardens,” the floral designer, writer, photographer, and educator responded with a literary quote: “I’m borrowing from Joan Didion who said the following about writing, but you can switch up the verb: ‘I write entirely to find out what I’m thinking, what I’m looking at, what I see and what it means.’ ” To Christin, gardening isn’t just about growing plants; it provides a lens through which to understand the world.
A trained horticulturalist (via the Royal Botanic Gardens, Kew), committed environmentalist (double major in Environmental Studies and Anthropology), and thoughtful writer (MFA in Creative Nonfiction), Christin now travels widely to teach, speak, and write. Below, she shares the reasons she’s conflicted about modern-day gardening, the sure-fire method of extending the vase life of cut flowers, and the garden she calls “humbling, inspiring, and if you read his poetry as a part of your visit, transformational.”
Above: Christin’s next book, A Cultivated Manifesto, will be published by Rizzoli in 2025.
Your first garden memory:
I loved bugs as a child and made circuses for caterpillars from twigs, leaves and flowers. When I was very young, I discovered ants on peony buds. I suspect they were at my height and I remember watching them, not knowing why they were there or why they seemed so busy. Today I know it is a kind of mutualism—the ants eat sugars from nectaries and protect the flowers from other insects.
Garden-related book you return to time and again:
The Phaidon books FLOWER: Exploring the World in Bloom and PLANT: Exploring the Botanical World. They’re art history books predominantly, but packed with botanical, political, and historical insights. This isn’t really a plug, but I often return to my first book [Cultivated: The Elements of Floral Style] when I’m feeling flat about my writing. If I can appreciate decent sentences about plants, it helps me write more of them. It’s the same with gardening to some degree—if I look at pictures of past successes, it fuels my hope for the future.
Above: Christin’s cutting garden in Victoria, Canada, where she lives. (She also has a home in Chilmark, Martha’s Vineyard.)
Productive. Collected. Confused.
Plant that makes you want to run the other way:
Amaranth: I love it as a cooked vegetable and know it is fabulous as a cut flower, but just looking at those seeds makes me itch. Tied for first place in the cringey cultivated category is Chinese Forget-Me-Not (Cynoglossum amiable), which has seeds capable of sticking in your socks (through multiple washes) and is the bane of pet owners. It’s one to be careful with, given its pioneering+settler instincts.
Plant that makes you swoon:
Above: A carpet of Romulea hirsuta with a member of the Aizoaceae or Ice Plant family, of which there are approximately 100 types in South Africa. You can read about Christin’s trip to South Africa in Have Flowers, Will Travel: South Africa’s Superblooms.
I went to South Africa last year and swooned over so many plants, it felt like a rapture. (I’ve still not recovered).
Hardest gardening lesson you’ve learned:
This is a tough one to write: gardening today isn’t very ecologically-friendly. Or at least not the type of contemporary gardening that demands raised beds, hardscaping, irrigation, fencing, greenhouses, soil amendments, bedding plants, lawn care, plastic, netting, pumps, lighting, etc., etc. As gardeners, I think we all should consider what our hobby or work demands of the earth. Western culture gave us the idea that we could or should have our own little Eden and, more recently, that gardening or floral design is a form of “self-care.” It would behoove us to challenge these individualistic notions and consider less consumptive ways of engaging with nature. Basketry and forest bathing hold promise.
Todd Carr has been obsessed with plants for more than half his life, whether it’s designing landscapes for clients, leading garden coverage for Martha Stewart Living magazine (RIP), tending his own garden in upstate NY, or creating otherworldly botanicalexperiences for visitors to Hort & Pott, the by-appointment-only, self-described “speak-easy shop” that he co-owns with his partner, Carter Harrington. The store opened seven years ago, and today, fellow plant obsessives drive hours to immerse themselves in the magical, flora-focused worlds they create for each season. (Read more about it here.) The couple’s current project? Overhauling the landscaping surrounding their 1890s house in Freehold, NY. In addition, “I have been creating a new line of ceramics, and Carter has been pushing the envelope developing a new collection of outdoor cast concrete containers and sculptural accessories for the garden,” says Todd.
Below, Todd reveals the popular flower that he just can’t stomach, his favorite gardening hack that saves hours of yard work, and why he’s conflicted about the rise of meadow gardens.
Photography courtesy of Hort & Pott, unless otherwise noted.
Above: The pair moved into Arkwood Knoll, the name they’ve given their new property, this past winter after extensive renovations. “We have now been working on a myriad of garden projects that we have been documenting. It’s been an adventure and challenge doing so much exterior work with just the two of us,” says Todd (left), pictured here with Carter. Photograph by Mia Allen.
Your first garden memory:
I must have been 6 or 7, picking fresh snap peas, still warmed by the sun, enjoying the beauty in the shadow of my mothers incredible vegetable garden. That memory forever planted the endearment of being immersed in nature.
@cultivatedbychristin: She has such an evocative way of discussing the true nature of flowers and is inspiring through her arrangements and writing.
Describe in three words your garden aesthetic.
Big, bold, and textural.
Plant that makes you swoon:
Above: Cephalaria gigantea growing in front of their former house.
Any plant that can get taller than me in one season will captivate my attention every time. Over the years I’ve used such annual giants like castor bean ‘Zanzibar’, and 15-foot-tall broom corn, but fast growing vines like hyacinth bean and birdhouse gourds also make my heart sing. The structural perennial Cephalaria gigantea is a top favorite.
Plant that makes you want to run the other way:
Roses—just never found myself enthusiastic about them, and not a fan of their scent or the maintenance required to care for them.
Favorite go-to plant:
I have a few signature plants here that I like to incorporate in each garden, but by far the most used here at Arkwood is the native shrub Physocarpus or ninebark. I’ve got quite a few varieties here and growers keep bringing out beautiful new ones that are fun to collect and trial here in the gardens. Physocarpus ‘Amber Jubilee’ is a stand out here at Arkwood from spring to fall and throughout the winter with its shedding bark.
Unpopular gardening opinion:
A few weeds in the garden and blurred border edges are okay—trying to control nature to the max always feels too constrictive to me. Being a little loose and casual with my gardens puts me at ease and I’ve come to accept the blurry lines between the natural and cultivated.
Gardening or design trend that needs to go:
Meadow gardens everywhere. I think there is a right place for them of course and I’m not saying this trend needs to go; I know how beautiful and beneficial they are. I’d just like to see more layered gardens using native trees, and shrubs like sumac, willows, and dogwoods. I’m really enjoying the urban decay garden movement that I have been seeing, with the use of colonizing plant material and weeds being celebrated for the beauty they can possess.
3. But go with French lavenders for a longer bloom.
If you are trying to chose between English and French, know that while English varieties are more fragrant, French varieties have a longer bloom time.
4. Choose carefully if you’re using lavender as an herb.
Above: Spanish lavender-flavored soda. Photograph by Marla Aufmuth for Gardenista, from DIY: Lavender Soda.
French lavender is not the choice for scented, herbal, or culinary uses because of its low oil content. “I like ‘Provence’, as it’s a favorite savory culinary herb used worldwide, especially in the Mediterranean and Middle East,” says Terry. She also likes ‘Royal Velvet’ for any lavender confectionery or mixology recipes.
5. Lavender can be loved to death.
No need to pamper this drought-tolerant plant; it actually prefers to be ignored. Excess fertilizer, water, and rich soil will eventually kill it. That said, lavender does need irrigation during its early months of root establishment, but once established, it requires only minor supplemental water later during the driest periods.
The fact that the name lavender is derived from the Latin verb lavare—to wash, says it all. The Romans were said to have used this herb to scent their public baths. Also, in Medieval and Renaissance Europe, women who washed clothes were known as “lavenders” because of how they dried the laundry by laying the wet clothes over lavender bushes, which scented the clothes. Royalty, most notably Louis XIV, enjoyed bathing in lavender-scented water.
7. Lavender hates wet feet.
These Mediterranean plants enjoy the hot, dry, rocky slopes of southern France, eastern Spain, and western Italy. What they don’t like is soggy, poorly draining soil. “One thing our customers are surprised to learn is how important it is NOT to use high quality soils and water-retaining compost when planting lavender. Lavender hates to have its roots kept wet,” shares Terry.
“We never mulch or gravel our lavender. Some growers do use gravel, weed cloth, and cover crops, like grass, between rows to help with weed control. But never heavy mulch because lavender likes to breathe!” says Terry.
9. Some lavenders can be grown from seed.
While some lavenders, like lavandin hybrids, can be grown only from cuttings because their seeds are sterile, there are varieties that can be started by seeds. “Some people report great success with seed germination, especially with the Angustifolia varieties. Most commercial farms use plant plugs from rooted plant cuttings.”
While the most common and popular varieties sport purplish hues, lavender flowers also come in white and pink. ‘Little Lottie’ is an English lavender known for its creamy white flowers and Lavandula angustifolia ‘Hidcote Pink’ blooms with delicate pink blooms.
We’ve interviewed landscape designer Wambui Ippolito before (read our Q&A with her here), and we were so enamored of her that we decided to have her take our Quick Takes questionnaire. The daughter of a Kenyan diplomat, Wambui has lived all over the world, including Costa Rica and throughout Europe. Today, she resides in New York City, where she designs for clients in the tri-state area (her speciality is in fine estates). “But my home is in East Africa,” says Wambui, referring to her family’s lush estate in the suburbs of Nairobi.
Below, Wambui discusses her respect for those who grew up in the countryside and the reason she despises “Instagram gardenening.”
Photography courtesy of Wambui Ippolito.
Above: After graduating from the New York Botanical Garden’s prestigious School of Professional Horticulture, Wambui worked as a horticulturalist on Martha Stewart’s and David Letterman’s estates.
Your first garden memory:
Watching my mother work in our gardens when we lived in Nairobi when I was a very small child. Another memory is watching my grandmother talking to her gardener at the farm in the Rift Valley when I was little. I was always surrounded by pretty flowers and lots of trees and green.
Instagram account that inspires you:
I am always inspired by Kenya’s marathoner Eliud Kipchoge (@kipchogeeliud) and Nirmal Purja’s account (@nimsdai). Eliud grew up a few miles from my family’s home in the Rift Valley and his mindset and work ethic are a great influence on me. Nimal Purja is Nepalese, an ex-Gurkha and record-breaking mountaineer. I love that he has shifted the focus towards the Sherpa community who are the backbone of high-altitude climbing. I worked with a group of Nepalese gardeners early in my career, and they were very kind to me and looked out for me. I’ve always felt an affinity with Sherpas from those days.
Describe in three words your garden aesthetic.
Above: Digitalis ‘Arctic Fox Rose’ and Erygeron ‘Profusion’ in her show garden at the Philadelphia Flower Show in 2021. The garden nabbed the Best in Show and Gold Awards that year.
Clear. Simple. Open.
Plant that makes you swoon:
Tussock grasses and mulleins always make me swoon.
Plant that makes you want to run the other way:
Hosta, except for Hosta ‘Empress Wu’ which is so majestic.
Favorite go-to plant:
Anything in the Lamiaceae family because they work so well together. I especially love Perovskia atripcifolia ‘Denim ‘n Lace’ .
Hardest gardening lesson you’ve learned:
Above: Wambui with her crew lead, Isaiah Mitchem.
I have learned that unless I am gardening for myself, there is no guarantee that my gardens will last for years. Clients may sell a property and the new owners can come in, tear out the garden and replace it with a pool or concrete slab. I have learned non-attachment and to take lots of pictures!
Unpopular gardening opinion:
I don’t think it’s an unpopular opinion; I think it’s a realistic opinion to say that I tend to trust the design aesthetic of people who grew up in the countryside more than I do people who grew up in a city. I believe that people whose childhood was spent out in unspoiled nature—whether desert, mountains, savannah or forest—tend to have a deeper gardening optic.
Gardening or design trend that needs to go:
Instagram gardening. Gardens are looking the same all over because we all look at and follow the same social media accounts. One person does something pretty and ten people try to replicate it.
Old wives’ tale gardening trick that actually works:
Above: In Ippolito’s family garden in the Nairobi suburbs, they mostly “just let nature be.” Situated in an old-growth forest, the garden is filled with many native African plants including the umbrella thorn tree (Vachellia tortilis), blue-flowered Agapanthus africanus, and scented geranium.
