The other night, I was invited to speak at an event launching an incredible new initiative called Nature Add Nurture. I was lucky enough to be there the very day this idea first began—but more on that in a moment.
One thing I’ll admit to, occasionally and without shame, is being a little more passionate about gardening than most people—even those already working in the world of garden design. It’s a different relationship, one that’s more immersive, more personal. Natchez Glen has grown out of that relationship. It’s become my studio, my laboratory—for both creative and practical explorations in gardening and horticulture. And because of that, I’ve always sought out others who share the same depth of passion.
Over the last year, I’ve had the chance to visit with some truly inspiring people. Gardening has given me so much—but I’ll also be honest in saying that, at times, it’s made me a bit cynical. If you’ve followed this blog, you’ll know what I mean. Most gardeners do. When we drive through towns across the country, what we tend to see is less garden and more landscape.
That’s one of the things I spoke about at the launch party—the difference between a landscape and a garden. It’s a subject I’ve returned to again and again. It fascinates me because it isn’t simple, even though most homeowners would say they understand the difference. But I don’t think there is one clear difference. That’s what makes it complicated.
Personally, I see the space right below your home—the beds, the plantings, the soil—as a garden. Of course, there are architectural elements that connect your home to the road and broader environment, and that’s where landscape architecture excels. The best landscape architects understand where water flows and how to move it across a property, large or small. That’s the true art of scaping land—shaping it, guiding it.
But once those lines are drawn, that’s where the garden begins.
Depending on the scale of a project, most of the time what I find is that people actually want a garden. They just don’t always know how to ask for it. It’s about shifting the perspective. That foundation planting below your windows? That’s a garden. And that’s what I shared with everyone who came to the launch party.
As I said that night, I’m not new to this. I’ve seen enough to earn my fair share of cynicism. Driving through the suburbs of Chicago recently, I didn’t see many gardens—regardless of the neighborhood. But I’ve also seen something else: here in Middle Tennessee and in other places I work, I think we’re standing at a crossroads.
And that brings me to the beginning of this story.
Nature Add Nurture
We’ve all heard the phrase: “Is it nature or nurture?” Why is someone the way they are? Why does a plant behave a certain way? But what if it’s not an either-or? What if it’s always been both?
That’s what my friends Taylin and Delaney were exploring the day they came up with the idea for Nature Add Nurture. I happened to be there—quietly in the background, chiming in with the occasional horticultural insight, as I tend to do. What I witnessed in their conversation was that same realization: it’s not nature or nurture. It’s nature add nurture.
That’s what I shared with everyone that night. And now, I’ll share it here with you.
Nature is what allows you to grow a cosmos from seed.
Nurturing is knowing where it should go.
Understanding the time of year to push that seed forward.
Asking: Will it thrive? Will it succeed? And if it doesn’t—what can we learn?
That’s nurturing.
And to me, that’s gardening.
So yes, I can still feel cynical at times. But I also see a world where maybe I don’t have to be. There’s a new wave of people—many of them arriving at similar crossroads in life—who want to slow down, not speed up. Even as everything around us urges acceleration, there’s another path.
And on that path, we don’t have to choose between formality and freedom. Some of my clients prefer the structure of a formal landscape—and that’s okay. But within that structure, there’s still room for magic and whimsy. We can nurture those spaces so that nature can flourish.
We don’t have to choose one or the other.
We can have both.