For most of my twenties, I was working in a fast-paced corporate job in London. It was the kind of career that looked right on paper — but deep down, something felt off. I found myself craving quiet, connection, a slower pace and a different kind of purpose.

In our tiny garden in Wandsworth, I started growing things — badly, at first. But something clicked. I began spending more and more time outside. I started volunteering, then working at a local garden centre. I didn’t know where it was going, and I wasn’t earning much, but I felt more me than I ever had.

Eventually, I quit my job and decided to follow that quiet voice. It wasn’t easy. But I trusted that if I kept listening to myself, something meaningful would grow. And it did.

My first hands-on gardening job was working on small residential gardens across South London. I learnt so much during that time — how gardens develop, how plants behave, and how much care and judgement goes into making a garden feel right. I was lucky to learn from Scott Melville, a brilliant plantsman who taught me the value of doing things properly — and with care.

I then moved to Oxfordshire to take on something completely different: working for Sarah Eberle (the most decorated Garden Designer in Chelsea Flower Show’s history) as a Section Head Gardener. It was a total shift in scale and style, and an incredible experience that deepened both my knowledge and my respect for the craft of garden design.

My first experience of professional garden design came through helping Joe Perkins (multiple RHS Chelsea Flower Show Gold Medal winner) one day a week for a short period of time. It was when I was just getting started and although I was inexperienced and knew very little, Joe graciously gave me a taste of what working in Garden Design was like. I’ll always be grateful to Joe for giving me that early glimpse into the world of garden design.

Today, I work as a Garden Designer with Butter Wakefield, one of House & Garden’s Top 50 Garden & Landscape Designers. Butter is an incredible mentor and I’m learning all the time from her and the amazing team.

In 2025, we moved to Knapp Woods, our home in East Devon, surrounded by fourteen acres of ancient woodland. It is a place we are only beginning to understand — its paths, trees, wildlife and the long history held within it.

We are slowly caring for the woodland and garden, restoring neglected areas, learning traditional skills and discovering what it means to become responsible for a place over time. It is a long-term family project, shaped by the seasons and by what the land asks of us.

Knapp Woods has become the setting for much of my gardening and writing. I share glimpses of our life here, the progress we make and the many things the garden and woodland are teaching me.

Alongside my gardening and design work, I write Still Growing, a newsletter about gardens, nature and what I am learning in the process.

The reflections often begin with something I have noticed or experienced at Knapp Woods — a change in the garden, a moment in the woodland, or a lesson that only becomes clear when I slow down and pay attention.

Each newsletter is a personal reflection on what I’m still learning — in the garden and in myself. It isn’t a guide or a how-to, but a quiet invitation to pause, put down roots and remember that we are allowed to grow slowly.