

Learning as I grow
Still Growing is my free weekly letter about what the garden is teaching me: patience, presence and becoming.
It’s the thoughts that we water each day that become the garden we live in.
Some days, just existing is enough.
Suddenly it’s October, and you realise how much your life has changed since this time last year.
There is always something to be grateful for.
I write about it every week.
Still Growing is one short letter a week, from the garden and the woods.
10,000+ people read Still Growing every week, and 34,000 follow along on Instagram. This is what some of them say.
“Dear Hetty, can you imagine that I even breathe more calmly just by looking at this.”
“For me it’s often too much time doing and not enough being; your content is excellent for giving me some perspective.”
“Hetty you start my day off so positively.”
Hello, I’m Hetty
I’m a gardener and garden designer who left a corporate career to follow a quieter path. What began with a small patch of soil in London led me to building gardens across the city, learning from some incredible mentors, and eventually working as a garden designer with an award-winning studio.
These days I garden, design and write from East Devon.
Read my storyKnapp Woods, East Devon
Fourteen acres of ancient woodland
In 2025 we moved to Knapp Woods: an old gamekeeper’s cottage surrounded by ancient woodland, with a meadow, a kitchen garden and a bluebell wood in spring. We’re learning to look after it, and it’s where we started Woods for Children Trust.
Explore Knapp Woods


Your gardenFor gardens in East Devon and nearby
More than a tidy-up, less than a big redesign
I also work on gardens near me. I come and see yours, work out with you what it could be, then plan the planting and plant it all myself, usually in about three days.
- I plan it, and I plant it
- I work it out in your garden, with you
- I keep what’s already good

“Exceptional talent, fair price and a delight to have around.”
A letter from Still Growing · 5 April 2026
Bluebells
The lane narrowed and the light of the spring sun fell onto the old track we’d been following. The trees bowed across the road and ferns spiked out from the banks. The red pin on our sat nav appeared and as we got closer, the bluebells came; up between the ash trees, through verges and covering the steepening hill.
It had been a three-hour drive from Oxfordshire. Ben had come into our bedroom the Friday before shouting ‘I’ve found it, this time I’ve found it’.
Join Still Growing
A quiet invitation to pause, put down roots, and remember that we’re allowed to grow slowly.




