The recent mention from Juniper Level Botanic Garden captures much of what this nursery has become: a small but deeply specialized operation focused on the propagation and preservation of rare dwarf conifers. The recognition is appreciated, and the description of sitting “atop the throne” of Southeastern conifer nurseries is generous—but the real story has always been about the plants themselves.
Years ago, the shift from landscape design to full-time nursery work was driven by a desire to cultivate not just plants, but possibility. Propagating from cuttings and grafting, tracking down witches’ broom mutations tucked away in the Southeast’s pines—these efforts aren’t simply about collecting, they’re about extending the genetic diversity and horticultural interest of conifers well beyond the common selections. Every plant here represents hours of fieldwork, observation, patience, and care.
But there’s another side to this moment. After decades of grafting and growing, this summer marks a transition. The nursery will close to public sales after July 4. While the gardens and collections have reached a level of refinement I’m proud of, it’s time to step back from active operation. What becomes of the material is now an active conversation: distributing remaining stock, exploring preservation partnerships, and considering how these cultivars might continue to be shared and stewarded by others.
The feature rightly honors the work to date, but it also stands at the threshold of what’s next. A nursery can be closed; a body of work can endure. The question now is how best to ensure these unique cultivars continue to find their way into gardens, collections, and the hands of those who share the same fascination that started this endeavor in the first place.
