Four essays a year. Written by the principals and the foreperson leads — not by an outside team. The essays are bound into the printed monograph annually; you can read them online here as they ship.
Most design conversations start with planting. Most projects begin with a topographic survey. The grade — water flow, where the eye rests, what feels enclosed — is the first design move; planting is the third or fourth.
A garden that reads in summer is the easy half. The composition that holds in February — bare branches, seedheads, evergreen structure — is the work. A note on what we plant for the dormant months.
Concrete sets fast and reads cheap by year five. Stone — local granite, sandstone, bluestone — sets slow and gets better with the seasons. The math is uncomfortable for the budget; it works in the long horizon.
Most gardens become themselves between the second and fourth year. Plants find their canopy. Hedges close. Edges blur the right way. A field note from three of our maintenance sites at the four-year mark.
We get the question monthly: can you take over caring for our garden? The answer is no, and the reason is structural — maintenance without a design relationship doesn't lead to a garden that gets better, it leads to one that gets neutralized.
Pavers, decking, walls. The materials decisions made on day one cost a multiple in year twenty. Three patterns we've seen age well; three we'd never specify again.
