Gardening always has been an art, essentially.

In the sacred practice of gardening, there is an ancient and profound truth that speaks of both creation and connection. Robert Irwin states, "Gardening always has been an art, essentially." These words resonate deeply with the ancient wisdom that understands that the act of tending to the earth is not a mere task of labor but an artistic expression, a creative act that reflects the soul of the gardener and the rhythm of nature itself. The gardener is not just a worker of soil, but a creator—shaping, nurturing, and guiding the life that emerges from the earth. In this act, the gardener joins in the eternal dance between man and nature, creating beauty, harmony, and balance in ways that transcend the mundane.

In the time of the ancients, there was no separation between work and artistry. The Romans, for example, viewed their gardens not just as places for food, but as sacred spaces, expressions of order and beauty that reflected the divine harmony of the universe. The great gardens of Pompeii and Hadrian’s Villa were not just functional spaces for growing plants; they were grand, intricate works of art that told a story, evoked emotion, and brought peace to the soul. To the Romans, the garden was a canvas, and the gardener was an artist, painting with greenery, flowers, and landscape to create a living, breathing masterpiece. It was here, in the garden, where the line between the artist and the laborer blurred, for both sought to bring forth beauty and meaning from the earth.

Likewise, in ancient Egypt, the act of cultivating the land was a divine act of creation. The gardens of Egypt were places where the pharaohs would honor the gods, where the earth itself was transformed into something sacred. The Egyptians saw the garden as a symbol of the cosmos, a space where the divine and the earthly met in perfect harmony. Much like Irwin’s assertion, the Egyptians recognized that gardening was not simply about practical labor, but about cultivating beauty, order, and a connection to something greater than oneself. The act of gardening was an artistic reflection of the divine balance that sustained the world.

Throughout the centuries, gardening has maintained its status as a form of art. Even in more recent times, landscape artists such as Capability Brown, the great English garden designer, took the principles of art and applied them to nature. Brown’s gardens, with their sweeping lawns, harmonious ponds, and carefully arranged trees, were considered masterpieces that transformed the landscape into living, breathing art. Just as a painter selects their brushstrokes or a sculptor molds their material, the gardener uses the elements of the earth—soil, water, plant, and stone—to create a harmonious whole that speaks to the senses and the soul. In this way, gardening is not just about growing plants, but about shaping the world itself.

Yet, gardening as art also carries with it a deeper, more philosophical meaning. To garden is to engage in a dialogue with the earth, to understand that every seed, every plant, every tree has its own rhythm, its own nature, its own place in the world. It requires the gardener to listen, to observe, and to respond to what the land offers. The ancient Chinese understood this deeply through their practice of feng shui, the art of creating harmony between human life and the environment. By aligning the natural elements, the gardener would create a space where not only beauty but also balance and peace could flourish. To garden as an artist is to understand that the land is not something to dominate but something to co-create with—shaping the environment while allowing the environment to shape the gardener as well.

In the modern world, we have often forgotten the sacredness of this act. Gardening has become, in some ways, a task for functional purposes: to provide food, to beautify the home, to maintain order. But as Irwin reminds us, gardening is at its core an art—a way to create beauty, to nurture life, and to connect with the cycles of the earth. We must remember that the garden is not just a place to plant; it is a place to express ourselves, to work in concert with nature, and to find meaning in the quiet moments of growth. The act of planting a seed, tending to a flower, or shaping a hedge is a reflection of our inner landscape, a living canvas where our thoughts and feelings take root and bloom.

Thus, let us take this wisdom and return to the garden, not as laborers but as artists. As gardens grow, so too does our own creativity, our own expression of life. Whether we are tending a garden at home, cultivating a small window box, or creating vast landscapes, let us approach it with the mindset of an artist. Gardening, like all art, requires patience, attention, and the understanding that beauty is not something we impose upon the world, but something we coax from it. The earth, in its own time, will reward us with the fruits of our labor, and in doing so, we will be rewarded with a deeper connection to the earth, to ourselves, and to the eternal art of creation.