This spring, I was fortunate enough to attend two of the seasons most inspiring garden events local to me in Cornwall; The Cornwall Garden Society’s show in Wadebridge and Toby’s Garden Festival in Powderham in Devon. Both had an impressive roster of speakers and what stood out to me as a recurring theme woven through many of the talks was the appeal of naturalistic planting.
It’s a style that has long held my heart, and cleary, I’m not alone. Many are interested in letting go of the tightly clipped borders and tightly controlled planting – letting the laces loosen so to speak. In its place, many of us have a preference for a more relaxed planting style, one of ease, movement and harmony in the garden now.
Achieving this does require work though, at least in the initial stage, and it is not without design either. As the late Henk Gerritsen wrote about the influential Dutch Priona Garden:
‘The wilder the planting got, the more the need for a strong design evolved. Wild plants in nature do not grow in a disorderly mish-mash, but are grouped three dimensionally in recognisable plant communities and in harmony with the scenery.’
Gerritsen continues:
‘The idealised harmony of a symmetrical garden with straight hedges, an elongated straight pond in the middle and trees planted symmetrically on both sides has outlived itself. It is a theme from the past, when people used to be afraid of nature. Idealised, because harmony only exists in our imagination, not in nature. The garden remains a human creation; art (or kitsch), an illusion. The planting has to be founded on a lucid concept that has to be understood at first glance.’


Naturalistic planting is different from re-wilding. Re-wilding is when we let go of the land and allow nature to find its natural rhythm again over a long period of time. It has minimum if not no inputs from us. Naturalistic however is an effect we achieve when we garden to grow an aesthetic that resonates with us. It captures the poetry of nature.
I recently immersed myself in a new book that speaks directly to this ethos: Pastoral Gardens. It showcases a stunning collection of spaces where the boundary between the garden and landscape dissolves – gardens that blend seamlessly into woodlands, meadows, brooks or even the sea. Yes, even in a suburban setting, the same principles can apply. Through perennials and carefully managed meadows, even a small plot can hum with a sense of the wild.
Ultimately, I feel what we are striving for is a sense of abundance – a garden full of life, of plants jostling for space, of textures and tones layered like a living canvas. When we achieve this we don’t just create beauty, we create connection, and that is when we have successfully captured the poetry of nature.

