Why I design…

I’ve always felt a pull toward the natural world. Even as a kid, I was tuned in to the quiet moments—the way moss clings to stone, the rustle of leaves, the watchful stillness of animals. Growing up in New Orleans, I was surrounded by the magic of the swamp. Spanish moss, resurrection ferns after rain—all of it left a mark on me. That sense of mystery still shapes how I see and design today.

I got my undergrad in biology because I was fascinated by how life works. After returning to New Orleans, a decade of working in real estate helped me understand how people connect with space - and taught me how to listen and to pay close attention. Over time, that grew into something deeper. I wanted to create space so I got my horticulture license, then went on to earn a Master’s in Landscape Architecture, where my design philosophy really took root.

My approach is simple: I believe the land already knows what it wants to be. My job isn’t to force it, but to listen—to help shape what’s already trying to come through. It’s less about control, and more about trust. The best spaces, to me, feel inevitable—like they were always meant to be there.

There’s a line from the Realtor Code of Ethics that I’ve carried with me: “Under all is the land.” I think about that often. Land is the great connector and can be a uniting element in our world, and by proxy, so can our gardens. They hold memory. They create connection. They remind us where we come from—and where we’re going.

A former professor of mine proclaimed that “pleasure is the most serious, the most radical thing in this broken but still miraculous world.” That’s stayed with me. It’s a reminder that joy and beauty matter—that they’re not just extras, they’re the heart of the work.

At the end of the day, I think landscapes should do more than please the eye. They should invite you to feel something. They should surprise you. Comfort you. Give you a moment to breathe. They should create a space that makes you feel like you’re meant to be there - a space that welcomes you home.

- Anthony Watley, MLA, ASLA