Diary of a Gardener What does your Garden Do For You?

As cooler weather settles into South Florida, I notice changes in my garden. The wildflowers are beginning to fade, tropical plants are showing brown leaf edges, and the ornamental grasses are looking a little lackluster. However, signs of renewal are emerging—nasturtium seeds are sprouting, alyssum is making an appearance, and other flowers are bouncing back to life after the long, hot summer. This is usually the time of year when I find myself rearranging plants again.

If you’ve been following me for a while, you know this is something I do often. Just this past weekend, I cut back 8-foot-tall wild coffee bushes and removed plants that no longer felt purposeful—for me, the pollinators, or the wildlife. In their place, I added small, evergreen native shrubs like Darrow’s blueberry to break up the unruly masses of wildflowers I typically let grow wild. While I adore a messy, natural garden, I’ve started craving a bit more definition. I want to see each plant’s unique beauty, not have one swallow up another.

I also decided to give a cast-iron clawfoot bathtub in my garden a more manicured look. Once I finish that project, I’ll share the process. Lately, I’ve also been simplifying my garden, reducing “stuff” by 50-60%. This includes trinkets, pots, ornaments, and even plants—items I like but don’t feel serve a purpose anymore. While I still have plenty, I’m enjoying the newfound simplicity and plan to pare down even more as the weeks lead into Christmas. My goal is to start the new year with a clearer focus: fewer items, perhaps fewer plants, but a garden that still offers plenty to admire and enjoy.

Our gardens are works in progress, just like us. They aren’t meant to be stagnant—they grow, evolve, and change with the seasons, as we do. They require work, but not so much that we feel like full-time gardeners. They’re places of beauty, sources of food for wildlife, curb appeal for passersby, and sanctuaries for anyone in need of a peaceful moment.

I look forward to the new ideas my garden will spark as I continue to nurture it—it’s where I do my best thinking.

What does your garden do for you?