Why I design…

I have 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 hanging from live oaks. Resurrection ferns unfurling after rain. That landscape left a mark on me. That sense of mystery still shapes how I see and design today.

I studied biology as an undergraduate because I was fascinated by how life works. After returning home, I spent a decade in real estate, which taught me something just as important. It taught me how deeply people connect to space. It taught me how to listen. How to pay attention.

Over time, that curiosity grew into something more creative. I wanted to shape space, not just sell it. I earned my horticulture license, then went on to complete a Master’s in Landscape Architecture. That is where my design philosophy truly took root.

My approach is simple. I believe the land already knows what it wants to be. My job is not to force it, but to listen and help shape what is already trying to emerge. It is less about control and more about trust. The best spaces feel inevitable, as if they were always meant to be there.

There is a line from the Realtor Code of Ethics that I have carried with me: “Under all is the land.” I think about that often. Land is the great connector. It holds memory. It creates belonging. And by extension, so can our gardens.

A former professor once said that “pleasure is the most serious, the most radical thing in this broken but still miraculous world.” That idea has stayed with me. It reminds me that joy and beauty are not luxuries. They are essential.

At the end of the day, I believe 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 are meant to be there. A space that welcomes you home.

Anthony Watley, MLA, ASLA