They say a dying garden still carries life, and that's a good thing, because in seasons of decay, we all need reminders to anticipate future transformations.
Perhaps the dreary days of late autumn are an odd time to write about gardens—the echinacea blooms have all turned brown as dead bugs, and the wispy grasses are either dry as reeds or mushy as old compost. The productive ground for summer vegetables has been put to rest and the bulbs are tucked away for winter's nap. While we do have evergreens and seasonal bright spots, fast glances can look a bit dismal.
Yet the roots are quietly working their magic underground, hidden and hopeful.
In a bittersweet move this past spring, after many fruitful and beautiful projects, I made a formal shift away from my longstanding part-time collaboration with Outdoor Scenery in order to focus full-time solely on my clients. I helped wrap three final projects: a stunning Oregon wine country estate in partnership with Prentiss Balance Wickline Architects, a townhome development with Evident Architecture, and a terraced kitchen garden and outdoor living room for a French-inspired chateau designed by Jeffery Miller Architects. In each of these and our collaborative projects over the past many years, I've been grateful to leave my mark on places for people to live and find joy in connection with the plants and stones and water and invisible spirit that make an ordinary space into a garden home.
Pruning this part of my professional life was hard, but the expansiveness of this pivot dedicating my focus entirely to my clients continues to bring health and joy to my practice, and I am filled with gratitude for the relationships and inspirations opening doors to this fresh growth.
After a busy summer and autumn construction season working with several of my clients in Irvington, Laurelhurst, and Belmont (and some as far as Bainbridge Island and Klickitat County), I'm retreating into my studio this winter, giving energy to work that will continue emerging next spring. I'm grateful to have many beautiful projects on the boards: a modern farmhouse collaboration with Taylor Lombardo Architects with a focus on holistically healthy hydrology and a stuff-of-dreams expanse for greenhouse, potager garden, and urban orchard; a multi-generational aging-in-place ADU with new access and gardens in collaboration with architect William Tripp; a midcentury modern pool renovation and outdoor living retreat with Framework Engineering; a historic 1915 Ellis Lawrence designed house with stately heritage elm trees and an expansive grounds ripe for renovation and redesign; and many other jewelbox projects like sweet patios for young families and new planting zones in longtime gardens.
I'm also pleased to share that I nominated my associate and design assistant, Abigail Leonard, for the WxLA Womxn in Landscape Architecture emerging professionals cohort, and as one of the selected scholarship recipients, she received support to attend the American Society of Landscape Architects National Meeting in Nashville, Tennessee. Her fine commitment to ecologically wise and aesthetically thoughtful design is a gift to our design community and clients, and I am grateful for opportunities to support fellow practitioners both here and in the Pacific Design Collective group I’ve been nurturing since pre-pandemic days.
This autumn, two of my clients' gardens were featured in the Modern Architecture and Design Society’s Portland Landscape Architecture and Design Tour. What giddiness we shared, welcoming hundreds of visitors to come see each labor of design and construction love. Many thanks to Autumn Leaf Landscaping and José Villegas and Raúl Gonzalez for their expertise in constructing these special oases that inspired so many. See more about the Hurst and Mistletoe gardens in coverage by KGW and the Oregonian, and keep an ear out for the 2022 tour. I'll be certain to send notice in advance of the next chance to come say hello and meet me in a favorite garden!
In the meantime, as the cycles of decay do their age-old job of quieting and calming and ending (for now), I hope we all can find a little space to fall apart. To let go, drop our heads and drop our leaves, release our seeds, and trust that the good we grow in the world will come up strong and green when the sunlight coaxes a return.
Whether you’ve been a client or a colleague, a cheerleader or a fellow garden-dreamer, thank you for being part of my world and sharing a few moments with me today. May our dark days grow deeper roots...
With love from the field,
P.S. If you would like to be added to my address book, please join me here.
Moments in the Garden
"The garden is, in a sense, the cosmos in miniature, a condensation of the world that is open to your senses. It doesn't end at the limits of your own parcel of land, or your own state, or your own nation. Every cultivated plot of ground is symbolic of the surprises and ramifications of life itself in all its varied forms, including the human."
- Stanley Kunitz