Garden Diaries: In Daring to Start Again, Lucy Hunter Opened Her Mind to New Ways of Growing – and Found Her Muse in a Quiet Container Garden

Two years ago, Lucy Hunter took a leap of faith. Fuelled by a lifelong career in landscape design and floral art, she followed a creative calling and poured her love of botanicals into hand-painted luxury wallpaper. With it, she inspires homemakers to fill their living space with the whimsy, romance, and nostalgia of the natural world.

Courageously, Lucy made this career change just as she entered her 50s, coinciding with a new marriage that took her overseas. As she prepared to trade her acre-long garden in the wet and cold North Wales of the UK for a sun-soaked container garden on the Kiawah Island of Charleston, South Carolina, Lucy couldn't have imagined how downsizing would calm the anxiety of braving to start again.

Her garden is just one year old but has already changed the trajectory of her relationship with plants and quickly become the quiet muse of her craft. Now, Lucy says, as she takes a deep inhale and potters around her containers, 'for the first time ever, I feel like I'm in the right place.'

Downsizing and Letting Go

I got married to my wife last year and we've been creating this garden together ever since.

After trying and failing to plant in the wider yard, we realized there was no other choice but to restrict gardening to our small deck.

We lost a beautiful acer tree to deer (who will eat anything that looks vaguely green and delicious), so the deck really just safeguards our precious plants and effort, while letting wildlife roam the yard as they please.

It's quite different to my North Wales garden, which was an acre in size and lovingly curated from scratch over 12 years. It was hard upkeep and there would be multiple spots I couldn't always get around to – I would just tell my guests to avert their eyes.

Rather than tirelessly firefighting to keep plants alive, I can now tune into my peaceful and manageable container garden. It teaches me to just potter, take my time with the plants, and really notice them. Slowing down like this has been huge in connecting with nature and finding new details to add into my design work.

I've had to be considered with what to plant because space is an absolute premium. The plants really have to earn their keep, especially in the extreme summers here.

I would say it has the essence of an English garden. I think that style will always be rooted in me. After all, part of the reason Charleston felt like home so quickly was because of the European influences in the architecture.

The spring brings perfect weather, just beautifully warm with a gentle breeze, and not too humid. It's like the best of British weather, and I've been able to grow classic spring bulbs, including daffodils, tulips, hellebores, and fritillaries. Seeing these familiar, cheerful blooms is a comforting reminder of home.

Our covered porch is attached to the deck and, by contrast, feels hugely tropical. Everything considered an indoor plant in the UK lives here all spring and summer.

I love experimenting with different tropical plants. I've discovered shrimp plants, managed to grow abutilons, and have lots of ferns. They add so much texture to the space and are fun to design with.

For me, the vessels have been just as important in curating this space. My father was an antique dealer, so I've always loved containers with history.

I think the most ridiculous thing we shipped was an incredible long copper pot from France. It's now full of ferns and was totally worth it, forming the centerpiece of the deck planting.

To complement it, I've chosen terracotta pots. I didn't want it to look like a random assortment of containers.

That's a nod to my floral work, in a way. I always try to keep things slightly monochrome because I find it more restful – but that's just a personal choice.

I've also repurposed some of the big 18th and 19th century urns from my floral art, which now find themselves housing plants on the deck.

Some of the pots are developing a beautiful patina, which gives the garden a feeling of having been there forever, even after just one year.

These pots tell stories of gardens past, as well as the new chapter currently unraveling.

This Place Challenges My Perception

Roses were a bit of a turning point for me in this garden.

I was open from the beginning to try growing different plants, but blousey roses have always been my favorite, so they were a non-negotiable.

Well, the likes of 'Honey Dijon' didn't last long with the intense summer heat and humidity.

Luckily for me, the Garden Club of Charleston is right on my doorstep, one of the oldest gardening groups in the US. I picked their brains, told them about my lost roses, and they told me there's just one thing to try: Knock-Out roses. So, I went out and bought one.

They're designed for the climate here, with incredible heat, drought, and humidity tolerance. To my delight, they bloomed all summer long. I even picked some stems, dried them, and now they're decorating my home.

It's one of the plants that taught me to discard pre-existing ideas and be curious about everything that's around you. There's beauty to embrace wherever you are, so keep an open mind and you might just be pleasantly surprised.

It rings true even for the wider backyard landscape, where huge Southern live oaks are adorned with long tendrils of Spanish moss and accompanied by palm trees.

They have an architectural beauty that I just don't think you find in the same way anywhere else in the world, it's so characteristic of the Charleston islands. Even though there aren't lots of flowers growing naturally here, I've come to appreciate the value of these structural silhouettes.

When October arrives, it feels like a breath of fresh air. The milder temperatures help my garden gain some life again, especially the heirloom chrysanthemums and salvias.

The most fabulous thing to accompany the fall garden is the migrating hummingbirds who stop by as they travel south. We get some incredible wildlife, it honestly feels like living on a safari park – I sometimes half-expect to walk out there to find a giraffe, and we actually do have a resident alligator in the pond that backs onto the yard.

The winter does get a bit wet, but we only really have a couple of weeks of frosty weather. The tropical plants in the porch come into our dining room, which sit perfectly against the mural I painted on the wall.

Just for that moment, it brings the lightness and calmness of the outdoors into our home. It's the exact feeling I want to capture in my wallpaper and fabric designs.

Really, having to work with this new climate has been a good thing for me. It's forced me not to be too safe, not just plant specific varieties because I know them, but rather consider what will actually grow here and what will work for the environment.

I find it exciting. I'm approaching my mid-50s and I'm having to rethink everything I thought I knew after 25 years of landscape designing in the British climate. There's still so much to learn and I'm really relishing the challenge.

My Containers Are My Muse

My curiosity in the garden finds its way onto my wallpaper.

I'm heavily inspired by my father's antiques background, so I've always been interested in old textiles and French influences. I then bring in the whimsy of the florals that I have worked with in my art and grown in the garden.

I like my florals to be wild. They don't take themselves too seriously but they have this kind of architectural foundation.

The colors have always been muted and soft because I was living in rainy Wales. Now I'm in sunny Charleston and the weather is beautiful, I feel as though my design is shifting.

I don't necessarily mean I'm going to start drawing lots of palm trees, but I'm very interested in the textures I find here.

When I started floral design in 2018, it changed how I thought about garden design. I would look at an otherwise boring shrub and zoom in on the leaf texture.

Elaeagnus 'Quicksilver' is a good example. It has really thin foliage, but it makes such a good foil, a good neutral among other colors that have more of a pop.

I'm definitely exploring this in my containers. I like there to be quite strong lines in the planting, complementing focal flowers.

I think of it as a bit of an orchestra pit, with the violins and oboes in the form of tulips and gorgeous 'Tiger Eye' violas nestled at the bottom. I then have plinths for vertical space. It's all about creating interest in each part of the journey upward, causing your eye to pause and stop rather than just pass by.

I always look for these layers in my design, and in respect to the garden, it's that sort of thing that really transforms it into a different space.

A lot of clients I've worked with feel like they don't know where to start with their big garden and it's because it doesn't have a roof like a room does. But, building on layers and bringing in textures can really turn it into a sanctuary that feels secure and personal – that's the emotion I want to bring into the home when I'm painting.

There's Still More to Be Done

The garden is entering its second year now and there's so much to be said for the strength its gained after I failed and tried again with growing the right plants, figuring out how to work in a smaller space, and choosing to slow down and appreciate every season.

In this new part of my life, that's so important. The last couple of years have been quite stressful – glorious – but stressful.

Gardens are good for the soul wherever you are, but for me this little garden has been a bit of a lifesaver in such a noisy world. Knowing it was waiting for me offered stability as I moved away from life in the UK.

But of course, it continues to evolve and there is even more to be done this year.

Extending the deck is a must, but we are limited with how much we can do because we're in a conservation area. That's probably a good thing, though, because I would just keep extending it forever and this forces me to stay focused.

One of the bigger projects is the lawn in the yard. It doesn't do much at the moment, so my plan is to swap it for some perennial ornamental grasses that reflect the natural marsh landscape of the island. Though, we need to think carefully about the heat and deer-resistant varieties.

That's probably the most important lesson I want to pass on: the first stage in creating a garden from scratch is observing your yard, how much light comes in, and the surrounding landscape. Trust me, it will save a lot of heartache over failed plants you spent money on at the garden center.

Have the Courage to Make a Change

Finally, I feel like I'm in the right place, personally and physically. I like to think that presents itself in my designs and a sense of contentment and joy comes through.

This move to the US, the challenge of starting a new garden in an unfamiliar climate, and choosing to be more curious about plants have given me an energizing muse that sparks creativity like never before.

If you have a feeling to change something in your life, have the courage to do it. You never know where it might take you.

You can follow Lucy's journey @lucytheflowerhunter on Instagram and explore her designs on her website. The Flower Hunter books are also available on Amazon and are full of Lucy's tips and tricks for expert floral arranging.

Garden Diaries is our series where we share inspiring stories of designing and cultivating a stunning garden space. We explore how creatives, designers and tastemakers have grown a deeply personal space, inviting creativity, learning and happiness in their gardens, and how they live in these spaces.

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