From House to Garden
If you’ve followed Hazel & Morris for a while, you’ll know that I think of homes not as collections of rooms, but as entire worlds. And here, that world doesn’t stop at the back door. It continues through the kitchen window, past the tapestry curtains, into the garden where chickens wander and lavender leans towards the sun.
From the beginning, I wanted the garden to feel like part of the house. Not an add-on. Not an afterthought. A true extension of the rhythm, the mood, the story.
It all began with the garden house.
The shape that set the tone
That garden house is hexagonal and from the very first viewing of this property, that shape stayed with me. There was something gracious and slightly unusual about it. I knew I wanted to echo it elsewhere in the garden.
So when I came across a hexagonal chicken coop, I didn’t hesitate. It was the perfect match. I painted it by hand in muted stripes — inspired by the olive-toned ticking stripe that appears throughout the house — and my father built a run around it, exactly one and a half times the size. I call it the Russian doll effect. Same shape, nested rhythm, a touch of architectural playfulness.
It’s a small detail, but one that quietly holds the whole plan together.
Lines, views and structure
From there, the garden took shape with deliberate structure: a central greenhouse, defined sightlines, curved edges meeting clean rectangles. The layout draws loosely from formal British gardens. Stately, but not stiff. Softened with split gravel paths, herbs trailing over the edge, and the occasional hen stepping across the symmetry.
The overall tone? A balance of British formality, French softness, and Italian rusticity expressed in palette, materials, and rhythm. Beige, white, and green ground the space. Rust, pale blue and butter yellow drift in like echoes from the house.
Even the textiles align: the wrought iron garden set, sourced in Amiens, is now finished with cushions in the same ticking stripe as our bedroom headboard. The parasol above picks up the same tones — not matching, but corresponding.
It’s subtle. Intentional. And it makes everything feel like part of one whole.
A life lived out here
The garden table is the heart of it all set just beside the greenhouse, surrounded by Brahma chickens, herbs, and old stone pots. This is where we linger with friends, drink wine under soft evenings, and slip into that holiday rhythm, even if we’ve barely left the house.
We’re not there yet. There’s still an old storage corner behind the greenhouse. The barn is due for renovation. One day there’ll be a wellness deck and perhaps even a small secret garden with a gate and a bench and just enough space to feel hidden.
But even as it stands, this garden feels lived-in. Considered. And entirely ours.
