05/29/2026
A garden should never give itself away all at once.
Stephen and Jarrod share this conviction. The stepping stones here, set into baby tears, set a rhythm before you've even decided to follow them. The path curves, deliberately, so the eye can't run ahead of the body. And then, just as you come around the corner, painted ferns and forget-me-nots, a plant pairing perfectly suited to a Marin woodland, and not at all what you were expecting a half-step earlier.
Frank Lloyd Wright did this constantly. He'd compress you down through a low ceiling and then release you into an expanse. We borrow that instinct shamelessly in our gardens. A pinch, then a reveal.
It's one of the great pleasures of this work. To design not just what someone sees, but the order in which they're allowed to see it.