People have always told me I inherited my great-grandmother Callie's green thumb.
Callie came from a time when gardens weren't a hobby — they were a way of life. The vegetables you ate, the fruit you preserved, and even the flowers around the house all came from the work of your own hands. Her knowledge was passed from mother to daughter, one season at a time.
Today, that same knowledge still finds its way into my garden.
Whenever my mom or granny comes to visit, we inevitably end up outside with our hands in the dirt. As we work, another story or gardening tip from Callie surfaces — little pieces of wisdom that have been shared across generations.
Some of my happiest childhood memories are in the garden with my mom. Every spring we planted a large vegetable garden in our backyard, and every summer we harvested together before spending long afternoons canning vegetables and making homemade preserves.
When I'd visit my granny in the country, we'd sit on the front porch eating watermelon, laughing as we spit the seeds into the yard, convinced we'd grow another patch for the next summer.
Looking back, I realize I wasn't just learning how to garden. I was learning patience, stewardship, and the joy of growing something with my own hands.
After my husband retired from the United States Marine Corps following 20 years of service, our family decided it was time to put down permanent roots in Texas.
We bought our 1950s home in central Fort Worth and immediately began transforming the landscape.
Like many homeowners, we hired a landscape designer. But when the plans included several invasive and non-native plants, something didn't sit right with me. That experience sparked a curiosity that quickly became a passion.
I immersed myself in learning about Texas native plants, sustainable landscapes, and ecological gardening. Along the way, I made plenty of mistakes, but every success — and every failure — taught me something valuable.
Today, I'm a Certified Landscape Designer through the Native Plant Society of Texas and am currently working toward becoming a Texas Master Naturalist.
Everything I create is rooted in the lessons passed down by the women who came before me.
Their wisdom reminds me that a landscape should be more than beautiful. It should feed pollinators, welcome birds, conserve water, and create a place where both people and nature can thrive.
Every landscape I design carries a little piece of the women who taught me to love the land. My hope is that the spaces we create today become the places where your family's memories will grow for generations to come.
With love,
Amy
Founder, Willow Wildscapes