I didn’t become passionate about biophilic design in a boardroom or a lecture hall. My passion began in a garden that was tucked away in the countryside, my grandmother’s garden. It was not just an ordinary garden. It was alive. The garden was a refuge that drew me into nature. I was at peace in that space, surrounded and embraced by my grandma’s biophilic design of a garden. Now, when I step into a space that is designed by the principles of biophilia, I remember the rush of reconnecting with nature that I felt in my grandmother’s garden. I strive to replicate that feeling in my garden design work.
Today’s world pays ever-increasing attention to the biophilic design concept, but for me, it’s always been about making spaces where people and nature can conveniently cohabit. I’ve spent years constructing gardens that resonate with the call of the wild while mindfully serving as the intended, thoughtful frameworks for our daily lives. To me, biophilic gardens are more than just green places; they are spots of intersection and interaction, serving as the intended backdrop for our daily dramedy. They are settings where you should physically chill, and given previous creepy-crawly-related outings to Wheaton, where you should emotionally regenerate, too.
Biophilic garden design is about more than just placing a few trees or some greenery into the garden. It’s about making the space reflect the natural systems we’re all part of, where light filters through the spaces as it does in a forest, where the water element is balanced, and where biodiversity thrives. Because when all of those natural “hows” and “whys” and “should bes” are taken into account, they add up to a place that feels good and looks good, too – in the same way that a natural ecosystem feels and looks like.
The Emotional Advantages of Having a Biophilic Garden
Over the years, I have had the pleasure of collaborating with a wide assortment of clients, from city folks yearning for even a square inch of nature to large estates trying to remember what it was like to connect with Mother Nature. One thing that has always stood out to me is that most people never even think to consider the emotional benefits of a biophilic garden. You might believe that what a garden can give you is limited to its looks, whether it is designed in the style of a formal garden or an outdoor living space that inhabits your dreams. What few realize is that a biophilic garden has much more potential in that regard.
I want to relate a personal story. Some years ago, I had the chance to create something very different from what I usually work on—an urban retreat, of sorts, tucked away amid the neighborhood surrounding a densely populated couple in a large city. They spent most of their time at work, so it was important for them to have a space where they could unwind together and be just a few steps from home. They had always liked the idea of a Waterfall Wall, which is so different from the way conventional water features are often incorporated into garden designs. (Not bad, but not as good as this, in my opinion, and surely in theirs.) I can’t remember now if they pushed for the idea, or if—more likely—I did. But this bit of storytelling seems to lay the groundwork for the rest of my point.
This is what the science says. Many studies have shown that natural environments can combat stress, elevate mood, and otherwise positively affect mental well-being. I have found that a biophilic garden is like high-quality medicine for the brain and soul. I do not think it is possible to fully articulate the magic of a calming space—for instance, the simple serenity of a gravel path. A garden is truly a marvel of designed nature, nudging our brains to go into an autopilot mode where nothing but chill exists.
Creating sustainable solutions through design.
Sustainability is another crucial element of biophilic gardens that I have pushed throughout my career and that I want to emphasize here. A biophilic garden is not just a beautiful garden; it’s much more than that. It has a true function in the ecological system. And doing sustainable not only makes ecological sense; it makes financial sense, too, given the rising costs of energy and water.
One project that stands out in my memory is a garden I designed for a family living in the suburbs. They were passionate about decreasing their environmental footprint. They wanted a place that was not only vibrant but also adhered to sustainable practices, mirroring their values around conservation and “biodiversification.” We were directed to use plants that were native to the area and ecologically friendly. We were told to use approximately one-third of the plants that would typically fill a similar garden. These plants were to reflect all of the colors of the local spectrum. We were asked not to spell out the family name with the plants—no topiary pleasantries, à la National Mall. Provisions were made for next-to-no salt to be used on any winter pathway to prevent ice from forming and for the pathway to be shoveled by hand in the event of a snowfall.
Creating a garden that not only beautifies the space around it but also has a positive impact on the environment can be incredibly rewarding. While I am not an expert on garden design or landscape architecture, I have enough knowledge to intuitively carry out the fundamental principles governing those fields. And I have enough conservation biology background to know how to make a native plant garden work and to understand its ecologically beneficial role.
Biophilic Gardening: Essentials and Practices
Every project that involves crafting a biophilic garden has at its core a deep comprehension of both the land and the conditions of the surrounding environment. I always make it a point to spend ample time in the space slated for the garden, becoming intimately acquainted with the soil, the light, and the current plant life. I walk barefoot to truly gauge the earth’s texture, sit in silence to decipher how the light shifts from hour to hour, and let the space resonate with whatever sounds it naturally makes—whether it’s the more obvious sounds of wind in the trees or the more subtle presence of water, or even the far-off murmurs that are part of city life. These are essential to the intelligence I bring into the subsequent design process.
Utilizing Natural Illumination
Using natural light is one of the most important principles of biophilic garden design. Light is necessary not only for aesthetic reasons but also for how we experience a space. Natural light changes throughout the day—our relationship with it is dynamic. In nature, light is almost never static. It gets filtered, refracted, and reflected by a myriad of surfaces and edges. Meanwhile, the sun itself is always on the move, so the conditions it lights up are rarely duplicated. I consider all of this when I garden.
One project that I worked on in a coastal area serves as a nice example for illustrating the points I want to make. The clients wanted their garden to feel open and airy, yet they also wanted the space to be comfortable and shaded. Managing the sunlight was a chief part of this project. Could we make the garden work under the intense, midday sun that beats down in that region? The daylight that the garden received wasn’t a problem; it was the direct sunlight that we had to contend with. The sun was so bright and so intense—and remained so for such a long part of the day—that we had to approach this challenge with a real optimizer’s mindset. The light that fell on the garden wasn’t something that we could just harness and play with; it was something that we had to filter, to shade, and to somehow make “speaking” the sun’s “rays to the audience” part of our design intent.
The potency of the elements of water
Another vital element of biophilic design is water. I make it a point to include the element in all my works, whether in the form of a small pond, a trickling fountain, or a rain garden. Water not only is fundamental for life in a garden; it also makes the garden more sensually engaging. You see it. You hear it. And if you get too close, you might even feel it.
A project that I found particularly fulfilling was designing a garden with a naturalistic water feature for a couple who lived in a rural setting. Their garden included a small stream that wound through it, mimicking the way water would flow through a woodland setting. The sound of the water was, of course, very soothing, but more than that, it created a whole series of new ecological niches that supported plant and animal life. Birds came to drink; dragonflies seemed to be perpetually in motion above the water; and the stream allowed us to plant species that needed a “wet foot” but otherwise flourished in the garden.
My clients would frequently share how the sound of water had become the auditory backdrop of their lives, soothing their brains after the workday was done. What had begun as a design element had become a vibrant, organic part of their daily routine. The water feature in a biophilic garden does more than pull together an especially fine rendering of “natural” elements; it makes a space that is continuous between the “natural” and the “human” worlds.
Plants that are native to an area and the biodiversity they embody
A common oversight in garden design is to select plants solely for their visual appeal. Though the look of the garden is certainly crucial, biophilic garden design takes it up a notch by making sure plants are chosen with the local ecosystem in mind. It’s one thing to have a garden that looks good; it’s another to have one that serves a functional purpose beyond the mere aesthetic. Using native plants—those that are local to the region and haven’t been introduced from elsewhere—is one of the best and most reliable ways to achieve both objectives.
I worked on one urban project where we took a small rooftop space and turned it into a verdant, green oasis. It consisted of only native plant species, most of which were drought-tolerant and perfectly suited to that environment. You might picture such a space as having its half-dozen close sunning-sheltered plants set beside the rooftop’s crude fence, with a few paths winding through it—an insufficiently enlightening picture of what the space had become. Picture it instead with a garden where bees and butterflies go about their business as our plants do theirs, with a barely audible hum that smells different depending on where you are in the space; in the shade, beside a path lined with lavender, smelling its light as our near-light-sulfide noses might.
From a Natural Perspective, Let’s Talk About Materials and Textures When we consider the materiality of a biophilic garden, we often get it right with plant selection. The problem occurs when we focus not on plants but on the hardscaping materials chosen to accompany the plants. Too often in what I see as “nature-based” gardens, plants are set off by the use of totally disruptive, synthetic, non-ecological materials. In the hardscaping components of my biophilic gardens, I try as much as possible to use natural hardscaping materials that complement the whole tactile experience of the place and, thus, the usefulness of the (often poor) senses.
To illustrate, in a substantial estate project, local stones were used to construct pathways and areas for seating. Not mortar, but the stones, either in their native forms or otherwise, were chosen because of their not only durable but also unique and arresting textures and shapes that engaged pedestrians. When one walks through the garden, which is located on a rise, the sense of the stones underfoot signifies to the body that one is indeed a part of nature. The wood used for seating was untreated, and very wet for much of the duration of the installation, allowing it to weather in place and blend further into the nearly 100 acres of grounds stretched along either side of the Potomac.
The Future of Seasonal Change: Design for Tomorrow I love biophilic gardens—those gardens where nature thrives, and therefore people can thrive, too. Biophilic gardens are unlike traditional gardens in that they don’t aspire to a “look.” Even in the form of a “garden,” a biophilic environment doesn’t try to maintain an ever-constant, ever-manicured appearance, as do many traditional garden types in many cultures.
One of the most unforgettable projects I worked on during my time at the design firm was creating a garden that was deliberately planted to express the passage of the seasons. In spring, the garden erupted in color and vivacity as wildflowers and flowering trees showed off nature’s march back to life. In summer, it enveloped the viewer in soft shades of green and an open, airy atmosphere. Autumn turned the garden into an intimate nook with wonderful views of the deciduous trees now taking center stage as the great umbilical cords of autumn transitions. Even in the winter, the perennial garden never lacked interest, a composition of earthy tones and textures that somehow always manage to look freshened-up by the season’s absence of life, the purest form of minimalist beauty.
Biophilic garden design necessitates not just an understanding of nature and ecosystems but also a vision for the future. I am often reminding clients that a garden is a living, evolving entity. Plants grow, seasons change, and ecosystems develop over time. Designing a garden that can adapt to these inevitable changes ensures that it remains vibrant and functional far into the future. I nearly always include plants in my designs that have the presence and density to give the garden a sense of depth. That way, I’m virtually guaranteed to be pleasantly surprised at some point down the line by how good the garden looks.
Bringing Biophilic Gardens into Our Daily Lives
Biophilic gardens are not just for vast landscapes or grand design ideas. Some of the most effective biophilic spaces I’ve encountered have been in small, intimate gardens in the city, tiny courtyards, or even vertical gardens on a balcony. Biophilic garden design, at its core, is about what the garden can do for you. Serving as the primordial link to the outdoors, the garden is a space where one can commune with nature. Biophilic design takes this idea and runs with it, amplifying the power of the nature experience by way of plasticity, purpose, and the personal touch.
Biophilic Design in Our Urban Centers Most of us now live in overcrowded metropolitan areas, where an outlet to nature feels more remote than ever. Yet even in these habitats, biophilic gardens can thrive. Indeed, I have found that it is smack dab in the middle of our cities that biophilic design can work its most profound miracles. The contrast between the din of urban life and the still, restorative quality of a biophilic garden can make such a retreat seem like a secret garden, an oasis in the heart of the city.
I recall collaborating with a youthful pair who resided in a modest apartment situated in the heart of a bustling city. They had a profound love for gardening but were sorely lacking in any kind of real outdoor space. Thus, we set to work making their bijou balcony a leafy, biophilic sanctuary. We used vertical space to accommodate over 30 plants, most of which had been chosen for their ability to grow well in tight spaces, including climbing vines and hanging baskets; in truth, you could somewhat erroneously call it a “water feature.” And yet, as the young couple emerged from the straightjacket of their busy urban lives to the tiny balcony (which was somehow adjacent to a pear tree), they were granted a real moment of nature.
The most impressive aspect of this project, to me, was how rapidly the garden became folded into their everyday ritual. They now start their days with coffee on the balcony and end them among the plants, even (and sometimes, especially) when the weather isn’t perfect. The not-so-secret secret of their new lingering is the presence of the balcony garden. And the way it shifted their space. Even gardening in the middle of Manhattan, they feel more connected to nature and the natural world.
Why Sensory Aspects Matter in Cozy Outdoor Spaces One of the major tenets of biophilic design—this idea that we can create more natural, healing, and immersive spaces—is to engage all our senses. “Biophilia” means love of life and nature. When we think about what makes a natural space feel like home, sight is often where we first focus. Yet, there are so many other potent sensory elements in small outdoor spaces. And these are what I believe make them feel truly like nature.
In an urban design project, I created a small, tranquil courtyard for an elderly client who is somewhat limited in her mobility. The space needed to be accessible, but we also wanted to create a sensory-rich environment that would provide the client with a small slice of joy and relaxation. We included plants with all sorts of different textures, from the soft, velvety lamb’s ear to spiky succulents to pieces of ornamental grass that, if I may say so, are not half bad when it comes to good old-fashioned sense (i.e., “as you can see, there is a plant”). These plants, used in a thoughtful way, break up the space so that the client could engage with the courtyard through touch and sight.
The outcome was a garden that didn’t just have a stunning visual appeal but also provided a holistic sensory experience. Every visit to the project was crowned by my client’s uncontainable glee at her singular garden. Here was a space that, even in its relative smallness, sang out with the kinds of joy one doesn’t hear in “beautiful” but “boring” gardens. Every time we met, she told me about how lucky she felt to have a spot where she could simply be, where she could get touchy-feely with the plants, hear the songbirds (or whatever they are doing at the moment), and inhale the intoxicating scents of tawny, man-size flower spikes that leered lasciviously from behind the leaf-fringed hole of a hedonistic jungle.
Sustainable Practices in Small Biophilic Gardens
Biophilic design at any scale embraces environmental sustainability, inside and out. Even a small garden can act as a robust tool for reducing resource consumption, beautifully integrating with local ecosystems. An intimate space is also an opportunity to engage the design user with the principles of environmental sustainability that at larger scales can be more easily ignored or taken for granted. One of my favorite ways to do that is by using the space to visibly, audibly, and sensorially delight in the techniques of stormwater management.
In a recent project for a townhouse with a tiny backyard, we were challenged by frequent flooding caused by poor drainage. Instead of trying to fight against nature, we worked with it to create a rain garden—a shallow depression planted with water-tolerant native species that helped absorb excess rain. This not only solved the flooding issue but transformed what could have been a disaster into a lovely low-maintenance space that requires very little supplemental irrigation. It was a perfect opportunity to flex my biophilic design muscles and build a garden that even the most nature-averse person could enjoy.
Linking indoor and outdoor spaces
A very exhilarating trend in biophilic garden design is merging indoor and outdoor spaces. This is bringing nature into homes and creating spaces that transition smoothly between indoor and outdoor environments. This is one of the key principles of biophilic design—bringing people closer to the seamless integration of the built and natural worlds.
Not too long ago, I undertook a project where the clients wished to establish a firm link between their interior living room and the garden snugly fit outside. We opened things up with large sliding glass doors and reworked the garden so that it really, truly felt—as the clients wanted it to feel—like an extension of the living room and interior. We did some greenery shopping, and now their chosen plants are living it up as the stars of both the interior and exterior. Their line of ferns and palms show a biophilic break in the shared wall, while much of the interior echo in the nearby plants makes for a smooth transition and a truly extended living space.
What we got was architecture that flowed from inside to outside, creating a real sense of openness and harmony with nature. The clients loved the way the design made them feel more closely tied to the botanical world beyond their walls, even when they were indoors. It’s a great illustration of the fact that biophilic design doesn’t just concern the space beyond our walls but encompasses all kinds of interaction with the living world.
The Effects on the Mind of Biophilic Garden Design
Biophilic garden design profoundly affects human psychology. I have witnessed over and over how these gardens can completely change a space and the people who inhabit it. They relieve stress, stimulate creativity, and instill profound peace, and for all these reasons, I aspire to design biophilic gardens.
I designed a corporate office garden once because the company was suffering from high employee burnout. The management team wanted to form a recharging space. We incorporated active and passive areas into the design, but the garden needed to be more than just a pretty place for people to partially engage with nature. Mindfulness has been a hot topic for the last decade or so, and with good reason. Biophilic design— incorporating nature into the built environment—is part of the whole mindfulness thing. Following this line of thought, I included some serious elements of nature in the garden design to encourage employees to practice more mindful meditation. These were supposed to boost not only the presence of nature in the office but also the benefits to mental health that should come as a result of interacting with it. Feedback from employees indicated that those were working.
Creating a Biophilic Garden of One’s Own If you are contemplating the creation of a biophilic garden, my most profound piece of advice is to begin modestly and really focus on the aspects that resonate with you. Biophilic design does not follow a strict protocol; rather, it encourages a deeper connection with nature that can take many forms. Start to observe your space. Intently. Notice how light plays across the surfaces inside and outside your home—hour by hour, day by day. Pay attention to the natural sounds that are part of your environment: the wind stirring through the trees, the tentative call of a bird. Remember to let all your senses work. From the visual to the olfactory, nature all around you is a palette for biophilic design. And as wonderful as formal gardens can be, the ones you create in your mind and in your heart will be your first biophilic experiences.
Ultimately, a biophilic garden transcends the mere physicality of space—it becomes a pathway to well-being, sustainability, and a closer bond with the natural world. Thoughtful design, coupled with a reverence for nature’s rhythms, allows us to mold gardens that do more than just dress up the locale. They bless us with “soulfood.”
