My Approach

“Each site has its own special qualities of stone and earth and water, of leaf and blossom, of architectural context, of sun and shade, and of sounds and scents and breezes. Seek these out, and you will discover promises of formal order or of artful naturalism – the beginnings of your garden.”

— Charles Moore, The Poetics of Gardens

Sometimes a place offers inspiration readily, in the angle of afternoon light, a venerable oak, or a view worth framing. More often, it must be carefully drawn out or envisioned from a blank canvas. Either way, creating a garden flows from a close reading of the land: its seasonal rhythms, its relationship to the surrounding architecture and the landscape beyond. Together, we uncover that potential, shaping it into a garden that feels inevitable.

Living Landscapes, Rooted in Place

My work is grounded in one of the most ecologically distinctive stretches of coastline in California, a landscape that rewards close study and never stops revealing something new. Where the Transverse Ranges fold into a south-facing shoreline and the Channel Islands stand offshore, the climate is exceptionally mild, further distinguished by a mosaic of microclimates and an extraordinary diversity of plants. The goal is to distill that ecological richness into a garden that feels personal and alive.

For planting inspiration, I work from the site outward, reading its topography, soil, water, and light, and looking to the nearby wild ecosystems shaped by those same forces. California natives form the foundation of this palette. Because these species co-evolved with local pollinators and birds, a garden rooted in those relationships naturally functions as vital habitat. The planting feels at home rather than imposed, as if it could only have grown from this particular ground.

By reading your site's unique microclimates, I reach beyond local natives to draw from the broader ecoregional palette. That wider selection is often where the solutions to challenging conditions are found — plants that will genuinely thrive where a strictly local plant might struggle. Those same species also extend bloom times, add visual richness, and position the garden well for future climate shifts. The result is a garden that deepens biodiversity, holds up under stress, and asks relatively little in return.

Beauty, Sanctuary, and Time

An ecological garden is also a garden in time. Plant communities settle into one another, self-sow, fill gaps, and shift subtly from season to season and year to year. The planting finds its own momentum, gently guided rather than rigidly controlled. In time, a mature garden takes on a quality beyond all this: a sense of depth and enclosure, an order and ecology all its own. It becomes a place with an identity, a destination, and unmistakably yours.

And none of this comes at the expense of beauty or pleasure. A garden that hums with pollinators, shelters birds, and reflects the seasons is simply a more alive and engaging space, and a more restorative sanctuary for people. Plantings work with paths and seating to draw you in, slow your pace, and reward your senses — the difference between glancing at a garden and actually being in one. There is always room, too, for a plant chosen simply because it makes you happy.