What makes a garden unforgettable? For me, it has always been the plants—their movement, texture, and the quiet way they shape space and stir emotion. From the earliest days of my career, I knew I wanted plants at the center of my practice. Growing up surrounded by nature, I became attuned to how plants could transform ordinary spaces into something meaningful and alive. That curiosity led me first to study botany, and later to launch my own design practice focused on planting design as an expressive, living art form.
Plants are not static elements to be slotted into empty beds. They’re dynamic participants that grow, shift, and evolve with the seasons. Designing with them demands an understanding of their ecological roles, how they behave over time, and how they interact with their neighbors. My goal has always been to craft gardens that feel immersive yet intentional—spaces where structure and spontaneity coexist, and where visitors feel both grounded and inspired.
Early in my career, I focused on bold, high-impact seasonal displays. Tropicals and annuals became central to my designs, bringing vivid color, dramatic foliage, and energy to urban environments. I approached them as living compositions, experimenting with combinations that softened the hard edges of the cityscape. The results were striking, but over time their impermanence felt like a cycle of replacement rather than evolution. I wanted landscapes that offered not just immediate beauty, but long-term resilience and depth.
This search led me to the work of designers like Piet Oudolf and Roy Diblik, who taught me to view plantings as dynamic communities rather than static compositions. Their influence shifted my practice toward naturalistic planting design, where plant combinations are chosen not only for aesthetic value, but also for how they interact, support biodiversity, and evolve over time. Observing Piet’s private garden in Hummelo, Netherlands, and studying Roy’s “Know Maintenance” approach showed me that vibrant gardens are rooted in both artistry and ecological insight.
My practice is built on a strong foundation of plant knowledge, but I believe truly memorable gardens come from the combined skills and perspectives of a team. This collaboration underpins everything I do. On every project, I work closely with other professionals to align plant choices with the broader vision for the site. Landscape architects contribute insights about spatial flow, viewsheds, and architectural context, while talented contractors handle complex site work and installations to ensure designs perform as intended. Skilled garden stewards—dedicated horticulturists and maintenance professionals—are the ongoing eyes and hands in the landscape, making nuanced decisions that keep gardens thriving as seasons and years pass.
Collaboration allows me to stay focused on what I love most—designing with plants—while elevating the outcome far beyond what any one person could achieve alone. Managing these collaborations takes clear communication and well-defined roles, especially to bridge the gap between design intent and on-site realities. Trusted partners ensure quality, reduce risk, and help maintain a strong reputation in this industry.
One project where all these principles came together is my former garden, Redstone Lane, in Marblehead, Massachusetts. Partnering with landscape architect Matthew Cunningham, we crafted a framework balancing strong structural elements with naturalistic plantings inspired by wild meadows and woodland edges. It was a garden deeply connected to its coastal surroundings, designed to be resilient through seasonal shifts and to serve as a space for experimentation and learning.
Like so many others, this garden reminded me that planting design goes far beyond drawings and plans—it requires humility and openness to change. No matter how carefully planned, a garden is always a negotiation with nature. Plants surprise us: some flourish, others fade, and sometimes the most successful combinations are discovered by accident. Being willing to observe, adapt, and edit is essential.
This is why I encourage anyone hoping to build a plant-focused practice to cultivate curiosity above all else. Study plants in their native habitats. Visit inspiring gardens. Read, travel, and, most importantly, collaborate. Surround yourself with people whose skills complement your own and who challenge you to see problems from new angles. Whether you’re working on a rooftop garden in the city or a sprawling meadow in the countryside, extraordinary results rarely happen in isolation.
At its best, planting design is a dialogue—between designer and client, plants and place, vision and reality. It’s this exchange, grounded in plants yet amplified by collaboration, that transforms spaces into living works of art.
For those interested in learning more, I recommend these books that have shaped my practice:
Photos: Adam Woodruff
Learn More: Adam Woodruff, Founder
Adam Woodruff, LLC
St. Louis, MO
principal@adamwoodruff.com
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