When a Garden Lives
Why beauty alone is not enough. About gardens and places that change quietly, about plants, materials, and seasons—and about why we feel drawn to stay in certain places.
Perhaps you know this feeling: a place is beautiful, and yet something is missing. It feels too still, too planned, too perfect. Somehow, it doesn’t feel alive.
Life cannot be made. It emerges—step by step, year by year. Plants grow, materials age, seasons leave their mark. What withstands the elements gains depth over time.
Living places are rarely spectacular. They do not impress—they support. Conversations arise, moments linger. Over the years they mature, not through constant intervention, but because what is already there is allowed to unfold.
A living place is never finished.
