Gardens are not landscape design alone; they are living repositories of history, emotion, and memory. Some plants have an instant ability to whisk us away to a bygone era, reminding us of loved ones lost and of locations that defined us. During a time in which garden fashion veers increasingly towards minimalism and drought-friendly design, many of the plants that have long delighted family backyard gardens are vanishing from view—but with them, do we also lose some of our personal, collective history?

A Grandmother's Garden: An Enduring Legacy

For me, there is something deeply personal about the ability of gardens to preserve memories. My grandmother’s garden was like a fairyland—one of colour, scent, and vitality. She cultivated plants that are now underappreciated by contemporary landscape architecture: delicate Hoyas, vibrant Azaleas, dramatic Rhododendrons, and Roses of every possible shade. When I was a child, I was fascinated by their flowers, not understanding that such exquisite beauty could just pop up from the ground.

Since losing my grandmother, I had longed to recapture that moment of connection. I purchased a Hoya for a garden of my own, and now each time it blooms, I am returned to that childhood past—standing in her garden, running fingers over its tender-textured petals, breathing in their sweet nose-tingling aroma, and being simply awestruck by nature’s quiet magic. One small shrub is more than just foliage; it is a doorway to yesterday and a memory that explains why I am a landscape architect.

The Shifting Landscape of Gardens: What We Have Lost

Modern landscape design tends to prefer clean-lined, structured, and extremely durable palettes of plants. Drought-tolerant and local species take priority (rightfully so, to some extent, under pressures of climate), but lost in this transition are lush, ornamental beds of yore. Old-fashioned blooming borders, full of colour and nostalgia, are being dislodged by restrained grasses and structured plantings.

While modern design is valuable in that it addresses sustainability issues and urban limitations, there is a deeply human aspect to gardens that contain history, traditions, and an affiliation with previous generations. Once we discontinue planting our forebears' gardens, are we in danger of losing something beside purely aesthetic qualities?

The Emotional Power of Plants

Some plants function like memory triggers, reminding us of individuals, locations, and feelings in a way that few experiences can. Smell, especially, is one of memory's most potent ties. Lavender's fragrance may recall afternoons spent playing in a childhood yard, whereas in the evening, an odour of jasmine may recall nights with loved ones.

It's this emotional resonance that causes many of us to instinctively choose plants that recall home, loved ones, or memories. One rosebush from a grandmother's garden, a piece of a family friend's hydrangea, or the same type of camellia that bordered a childhood street—these plants aren't just selected on grounds of beauty alone; these are acts of remembering.

Bringing Nostalgic Plants Back to Contemporary Gardens

While urban surroundings and weather conditions call for adaptation, there is still a place for nostalgia in contemporary gardens. We can:

  • Develop sensory gardens – Creating areas that contain aromatic, tactile, and visually stimulating plantings to inspire emotional responses.
  • Promote intergenerational gardening – Passing on knowledge of plants and traditions from one generation to another guarantees that significant plantings are not lost.
  • Blend old with new – Combining resilient, climate-adjusted species with memory plants enables one to have both sustainable but emotive gardens.

Gardens: Guardians of Our Legacies

Gardens are intensely personal, not only representing design styles but also the individuals who care for them and the memories that reside there. It may be a childhood Hoya, that now-lost variety of rose, or a whiff of a grandparent's showy bloom. These things keep us connected to our pasts and to our humanity — not necessarily for their role in supporting biodiversity or reducing urban heat, but for us.

Through nostalgia in landscape architecture, we can design not only functional spaces but also spaces with a story. Not only should a garden be a space to view, but also a space to recall.

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Image credits: Rose by slgckgc CC, Hoya by Mibby23 CC