Still Places #6 : Returning to the Wild
All Text & Images: Dom Galloway | GardenSpace (unless otherwise noted)
In recent decades, a quiet revolution has taken root in the world of gardens. Where once the ideal was symmetry, control, and a highly ordered arrangement of plants, many contemporary gardens are turning instead toward ‘re-wilding’. These are gardens that turn to local plant selections to form strong ecological spaces.
This concept does not entirely abandon design or cultivation but reimagines them—asking what it means to shape spaces that are not only beautiful, but also ecologically alive and deeply sustaining to those who enter them.
The ‘re-wilded’ garden is not a return to unadulterated wilderness but a creative partnership with it. Meadows of native grasses, ponds alive with dragonflies and frogs, and borders planted to sustain bees and birds—these are now as much a part of contemporary garden aspiration as clipped hedges and orderly lawns once were. The shift reflects both environmental urgency and a renewed understanding of what we, as humans, seek from our gardens. In an era of heightened ecological awareness, the garden becomes more than a private retreat: it is a gesture of care, a fragment of restored habitat, a sanctuary for creatures beyond ourselves. It makes us custodians rather than owners.
RBGV Cranbourne Gardens, Cranbourne VIC
But it would be misleading to imagine that these naturalistic gardens are somehow “untouched.” The gardener is always present as curator. Paths must still be made and maintained, sightlines opened, and plantings chosen with an eye for rhythm, texture, and seasonal drama. A meadow allowed to grow entirely on its own might revert to a tangle of weeds, or aggressive colonisers; a pond left unbalanced could quickly choke with algae. What distinguishes a naturalistic garden from a neglected plot is the shaping hand that knows when to intervene and when to allow growth to speak for itself. The gardener becomes less a master than a steward, balancing freedom and order in a dialogue with the land.
Part of the appeal of this approach lies in the psychological experience it offers. The garden that feels closer to the wild satisfies something deep in us, a need to encounter nature in forms less tamed and polished. To walk through tall grasses that sway in the wind, to sit in the dappled shade of a loose stand of trees, to watch butterflies scatter at one’s step—these moments awaken senses often dulled by urban life. They remind us of our connection and reliance on the living world; a kinship gardens have always sought to renew. In these settings, the line between cultivated and uncultivated blurs, and we are given the gift of immersion in something that feels larger than ourselves.
"In wildness is the preservation of the world." – Henry David Thoreau
At the same time, the garden must remain a place for human dwelling. However wild its style, it is not wilderness. A garden without places to sit, to walk, to see and be at ease, fails in its essential purpose. The most successful naturalistic gardens are those that marry ecological function with human delight: a wildflower meadow that frames a sunny lawn for gathering, a grove of native trees that shelters a reading bench, a pond that cools the air beside a terrace. The artistry lies in creating spaces that restore both biodiversity and the human spirit, recognising that our need for sanctuary and beauty is itself part of the larger ecosystem.
This movement toward the wild is not a fashion but a philosophical reorientation. It acknowledges that the garden cannot be detached from the wider environment. Each plant chosen, each patch of soil tended, is part of a network of living relationships. To garden naturalistically is to participate consciously in those relationships, rather than imposing a vision of control. It is a way of designing not only for ourselves but for the insects, birds, and animals who share our space.
And so, in returning to the wild, we return to something fundamental to ourselves. The desire that first drew people to make gardens—the longing for peace, meaning, and renewal—finds new resonance when we stand amid spaces that are invigorated with life. These are gardens that honour the earth and the imagination, reminding us that beauty is not in domination but in connection. They are curated, yes, but curated to let the wild speak.
For more:
· RBGV Cranbourne Gardens, (https://www.rbg.vic.gov.au/cranbourne-gardens/)
For help to have some wild in your own garden space, contact us today.