Naturalistic doesn’t mean neglected
At the Cultivate Conference in Columbus, one presentation invited landscape professionals to loosen their grip and embrace a little chaos – with purpose.
In a session titled “Natural Disaster: The Good, the Bad & the Ugly of Managing Naturalistic Landscapes,” David McKinney, curator at the Iowa Arboretum & Gardens, delivered a grounded but energizing look at how “going natural” doesn’t mean going careless. It means shifting your strategy and embracing a new kind of order, one that works with nature instead of waging war against it.
Naturalistic landscapes are no longer fringe ideas tucked into botanical garden corners or niche environmental projects. They’re going mainstream. McKinney pointed out that commercial clients, municipalities and developers are increasingly asking for native-heavy, ecology-minded planting schemes that reflect the land’s character rather than erase it. But these wild-looking spaces require a wildly different approach to care.
For those used to the straight lines, mowed edges and mulch-heavy borders of conventional gardening, naturalistic design brings a culture shock. “The learning curve is real,” McKinney said.
While these gardens promise labor and cost savings over time, year one comes with a punch: high plant costs, intensive installation labor and time-consuming establishment. And not just any labor will do – you need skilled hands and sharp eyes. Proper plant identification is critical. Mistaking a young perennial for a weed, or letting an invasive sneak through the cracks, can derail the entire site strategy.
Adding to the challenge is the need to unlearn traditional behaviors. Forget fertilizing by the calendar or weeding every square inch. Forget watering to perk up a slightly droopy leaf. Naturalistic landscapes favor resilience over perfection.
Many of the usual interventions – routine irrigation, blanket feeding, aggressive pruning – do more harm than good in these finely balanced ecosystems. Success depends less on micromanagement and more on long-term vision.
That vision pays off. McKinney noted that by year three, maintenance needs begin to drop dramatically. In traditional gardens, crews might clock 750 or more person- hours per acre per year. But in an established naturalistic site, that number can fall to just 100 to 200 hours and in especially hands-off zones, even 50 hours annually. For land managers and institutions juggling multiple properties, that’s not just a perk, it’s a game changer.
But achieving those savings isn’t automatic. It requires upfront planning and clear priorities. McKinney urged attendees to set specific goals early in the process. Are you aiming for visual impact? Biodiversity? Safer access? Lowered maintenance in steep or remote areas? Different objectives call for different strategies, and there’s no one-size-fits-all approach.
Once those goals are set, management steps follow. That might mean periodic editing to promote structural diversity and blooming longevity, or seasonal cutbacks to prevent aggressive plants from taking over. You may need to manage wildlife interactions, both the charming and the chaotic, or plan for foot traffic patterns that weren’t originally anticipated. Intentionality is key. These landscapes look looser, but they’re still highly curated behind the scenes.
But sometimes, despite best intentions, things go sideways. McKinney didn’t shy away from the tough truth: “There’s only so much you can influence without starting over.” If a site gets overtaken by thugs or loses its balance entirely, a full reset might be the best path forward. These spaces may be natural, but they still need stewardship – and occasionally tough love.
McKinney advised managers to think like ecologists. That means understanding not just what’s planted, but what’s possible. Take into account the history of the land: was it farmland, forest or fill dirt? What’s the soil composition? How does water flow during a storm? What climate patterns or disturbances, from deer to foot traffic, are likely to affect the site? These questions aren’t just academic – they shape everything from species selection to path placement.
The goals of naturalistic landscapes fall into three main buckets:
• Aesthetic goals, like boosting bloom times, layering structural interest or editing plant mixes for visual rhythm. These sites can look stunning, but achieving that style requires savvy composition and timely intervention.
• Management goals, which focus on reducing weeds, controlling invasives and cutting down on human-wildlife conflicts.
• Practical goals, such as minimizing maintenance in steep or remote areas, improving site access or designing with user safety in mind.
It’s not just about looking good. It’s about functioning well, for people, for wildlife and for the ecosystem.
McKinney’s core message landed clearly: Naturalistic doesn’t mean neglected. It’s about stepping in with purpose, not stepping back in avoidance. The work doesn’t disappear, but it shifts. Instead of chasing a never-ending standard of tidiness, managers tune into cues from the land itself. Observation becomes a key tool. Strategy replaces routine. Patience takes priority over perfection.
The future of some landscaping might look messier, but it’s smarter. It’s more sustainable, more site-specific and in many ways, more human. It recognizes that nature isn’t something to conquer, it’s something to collaborate with.
And for the growers, designers and managers ready to take that leap, naturalistic landscapes offer something rare: gardens that grow not just plants, but possibilities.
by Enrico Villamaino