From the Journal
Essays about gardens, home, and the ways they shape how we see the world. Observations, traditions, design ideas, and unexpected connections that grow alongside the garden.
A visit to Rhode Island's only lavender farm became a lesson in observation, landscape design, and the ways gardens continue to teach us.
FEATURED STORY
What You’ll Find Here:
Family & Traditions
The plants, rituals, and memories passed from one generation to the next.
Life in the Garden
The moments that happen between the projects, pruning, and planting.
Observations
Small details, unexpected connections, and lessons hiding in plain sight.
Stories Worth Keeping
Because every garden eventually becomes a collection of stories.
New to Parsley & Petal?
Wander the garden:
A visit to Rhode Island's only lavender farm became a lesson in observation, landscape design, and the ways gardens continue to teach us.
A borrowed view is one of the simplest ways to make a garden feel larger without adding a single plant. Discover how framing distant trees, neighboring gardens, and natural scenery can transform the way you experience your own landscape.
I went to the Museum of Fine Arts to see an exhibit about gardens. Instead, I found myself returning to a painting I'd loved since childhood and reflecting on why certain places continue to shape us long after we've left them.
What began as a way to protect roses from deer slowly evolved into one of our favorite garden spaces. A story about English roses, dogs, neighbors, and the garden room I never planned to create.
I remember someone visiting shortly after we purchased the property and remarking, rather dismissively, “This yard isn't that great.” Perhaps they were right.
My love affair with peonies isn't over. It's just on hold while I get this growing devotion to roses under control.
I know that color. I had been once before, years ago, with my younger sister, long before I ever thought of myself as a gardener.
A quiet shift into early spring, with hellebore containers outdoors and kokedama arrangements inside, two ways of welcoming the season.
The whole place had a fairytale feeling—artful, a little whimsical, and just loose enough not to feel overdone.
Mid-March in the Northeast. While the stylist in me wants to edge the beds immediately, the gardener in me says, “Wait. It’s still too wet.”
I used to be drawn to everything at the nurseries. Whatever caught my eye came home with me. But a garden begins to feel cohesive when you choose a few colors and let them repeat.
When we first moved into our house, every bare patch of soil looked like a problem to solve. I was a city girl who knew nothing about growing grass, much less a garden.