A garden is a slow argument
with the weather.

We'd rather win it slowly. The practice takes on eight gardens a year, which is few enough that the same six people who plant your borders are the ones who come back to edit them in October. We work in the Cotswolds only, in soil we know, with stone from quarries we can name.

Most of what we build you can't see in the first photograph: the drainage under the lawn, the depth of the beds, the wall built dry so it can breathe. The photograph comes two summers later, when the garden stops looking planted and starts looking found.

We plant for the second summer,
and the twentieth.