A Morning at Great Dixter
24 Apr 2026
Some gardens impress you enormously and then slip quietly from your mind the moment you leave. Great Dixter does the opposite. It lingers.
Perhaps it is the generosity of it. Plants leaning into paths, colour appearing where you least expect it, the faint sense that if you stood still long enough something might seed itself at your feet. It feels alive in the truest sense of the word. It is a garden shaped over time, with a long and layered history sitting just beneath the surface. You feel that sense of what has come before, even as you move through it now.
It was here, among Dixter’s famously generous borders and meandering paths, that we photographed our SS26 garden collection. The setting felt instinctively right. This is a garden that celebrates looseness and personality rather than neatness for neatness’ sake. Nature is allowed its say, but within a framework that keeps everything beautifully balanced.
“The garden has a well-structured layout,” she says. “You move from one room to another, each with its own space and character. The sky is ever present, except in the subtropical jungle, and there are always breathing places.”
Those pauses matter. A path opens suddenly onto lawn. A dense border softens into air and light. Even in its most exuberant corners, the garden allows glimpses of what lies beyond, gently drawing you forward.
One of Dixter’s quiet lessons is that abundance only works when restraint is quietly doing its job behind the scenes. “Restraint is one of the most difficult things in gardening,” Mary-Anne says, particularly when putting together a border. It is always tempting to add just one more plant. Sometimes that instinct works. At Dixter there are moments where “more is more”, creating the joyful mix of colour and variety the garden is known for. But every planting begins with a feeling, a kind of imagined picture in the gardener’s mind. The challenge is having the discipline not to stray too far from it. As you move through the garden, that feeling changes. Some spaces feel soft and romantic, others bolder and more energetic. Different plants, textures and colours guide the eye and subtly shift the mood. You are not simply walking through a garden. You are moving through a series of small atmospheres.
While Dixter’s scale is generous, many of its ideas translate beautifully to smaller gardens. Plant combinations are key. The pairing of textures, shapes and colours works just as well in a modest border as it does across a large one. Layering also plays an important role. Bulbs sit beneath perennials and deciduous shrubs, allowing the border to evolve through the seasons. Self-sowing plants weave between them, softening edges and adding a welcome sense of spontaneity.
For smaller spaces in particular, this layered approach makes the most of every inch while extending the life of the border.
Part of what makes Great Dixter so distinctive is its atmosphere. Despite its reputation, it retains what Mary-Anne describes as a sense of “domestic intimacy”.
“Every place has its own soul,” she says. “Dixter just has a particular wild and distinctive one.” Much of that spirit stems from the influence of the late Christopher Lloyd, whose curiosity and openness shaped the garden for decades. His approach encouraged experimentation while remaining deeply respectful of the place itself. As garden writer Anna Pavord once observed, Dixter is “the same place every time you enter it but every time it’s completely different too.”
Our visit came in early spring, that hopeful moment when the garden is stirring but not yet in full voice. Birdsong grows louder. Winter browns give way to fresh greens. The softness of new leaves and early blossom brings the quiet sense that the year is beginning again. “The softness of new leaves and early blossom along with gentle scents in the air makes a refreshing change,” Mary-Anne says, “as life for another year unfurls.”
One small ritual marks the moment spring properly arrives. When the grass has grown enough, the team begin mowing paths through the meadows.
A simple task, but a satisfying one.
A quiet sign that the garden is waking once more.
With thanks to The Great Dixter Charitable Trust for archive imagery.
