FROM THE STUDIO - SEPTEMBER 2026

A little slice of paradise

The beginning of a garden — and the opportunity to design one entirely for myself.

Recently, I became a property owner.

It’s a cute little cabin on a blank canvas — a classic quarter-acre section — and, for the first time, I have the opportunity to design a garden entirely for myself.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve grown plenty of plants in pots over the years. Container gardening is absolutely a valid way to create greenery with purpose, and many of my favourites are coming with me. They’ll eventually find their place in this new garden too.

But there’s something rather special about finally having my own little slice of paradise.

Starting with observation

My instinct as a landscape designer might be to start drawing — paths here, planting there, a pond tucked into this corner.

But good landscape design rarely begins with drawing.

It begins with observation.

Before I decide where anything should go, I want to understand how this place behaves. Where the sun falls throughout the day. Where water naturally collects and moves. Which views I want to protect. Where the wind comes from. Which areas feel exposed, and which already feel sheltered.

I also want to notice how I naturally move through the property before imposing pathways of my own.

What might grow here?

I already have plenty of ideas.

There will be food to grow, habitat to create and spaces to simply enjoy being outside. I imagine a productive garden woven together with edible and ornamental planting, a wildlife pond, places to gather, and quieter corners to retreat to.

I want the garden to feel connected to the landscape around it rather than sitting separately from it — responding to the views, the seasons and the character of this place.

But I’m deliberately leaving room for it to evolve.

Some ideas will stay. Others will undoubtedly change as I learn more about the site, see how plants respond and discover how I actually use the garden.

For now, I’m less interested in creating a finished picture than in building a garden that can grow, adapt and reveal itself over time.

That, for me, is part of the fun.

The beginning

Right now, it really is a blank canvas.

Over the coming seasons, I'll document what happens here — the observations, experiments, successes, mistakes, and inevitable changes of mind.

For now, though, I'm simply getting to know the place.

And I think that might be the most important part of designing it.

I'll share more as the garden begins to take shape.