Abby Clough Lawless, founder of Farm Landscape Design in Shelter Island, NY, approaches landscape as an ongoing dialogue between people and place. Influenced by her upbringing on a small vegetable farm, her work centers on creating biodiverse, enduring landscapes through the thoughtful introduction of meadows into residential settings. At Farm Landscape Design, meadow-making begins with close attention to site conditions and client goals, often converting existing lawns through sod-cutting and deliberate weed reduction without rototilling. The team establishes meadows through a combination of seed and strategically placed plugs, using careful timing and early monitoring to support successful germination. As the landscape matures, their approach shifts to light, ongoing stewardship—seasonal mowing and selective weeding—allowing each meadow to evolve while maintaining balance and resilience over time. We were excited to ask Abby a few questions and hear her perspective on working with meadows.

What’s a misconception people have about the “wildness” of meadows? Where do you see the balance between design and natural processes?

Meadows seem wild because of their size, complexity, and the presence of wildlife, but they are shaped and maintained by people, either through mowing or fire. You could say they are both wild and maintained. Designing a meadow is more of a conversation than a directive. Meadows are established through human intervention, yet they also possess the capacity for self-formation. No matter how carefully you devise a seed list, a meadow will create its own tapestry. You may be able to direct its trajectory through careful interventions, but when it comes down to its realization, you’re just one of many forces at play. It’s a humbling exercise, and you’re always learning something new.

Tell us about a meadow that didn’t go as planned. What happened—and what did it teach you?

We have been challenged by it all! But I think the science and art of seed compositions is a tough one.

Example 1: Once we added a small amount of Coreopsis lanceolata to a first-year meadow. What was meant to be a minor, soft note came in at full volume. I think every seed germinated, and we ended up with an exuberant sea of yellow that first year. Unfortunately, the client didn’t like yellow! By the second year, the Coreopsis diminished, and by the third year it was gone. That’s an example where a short-season flower faded over time, and it wasn’t a big deal.

Example 2: We started a meadow without a deer fence. This location had too many deer, so everything was eaten except the mountain mint. Now the meadow is fenced, but the mountain mint will not cede any territory—its roots are clonal. I would urge everyone to keep aggressive, clonal-type plants out of your general seed mix and be strategic in their use. They can be sown in drifts in areas where they are welcome, especially where you need a tough plant to take hold.

Example 3: Stay native. Many of our projects are located by the ocean, and we opted to try a small amount of a non-native grass that was recommended for the area. Unfortunately, this grass has taken over wherever it’s sown and has smothered other native grasses. There’s no easy control other than removal—either by smothering with plastic for a year or using herbicides.

Is there a plant that completely changed your opinion over time? How did your relationship with that species evolve?

Mint, Pycnanthemum tenuifolium, is an excellent native meadow and garden plant—completely resistant to deer and able to bloom during even the hottest days of summer. Pollinators are especially attracted to it; however, it can be quite aggressive. In gardens, we typically remove a third of the plant each year to prevent it from dominating. While it performs well in meadows, its vigorous growth still requires caution. We now prefer to sow it only in drifts.

If you could freeze a meadow at one moment in the year, when would it be?

I would choose two seasonal moments—June, when you have that bright green abundance, with daisies, lupin, and other early flowers coming into play, and late fall, when the stems and seed heads turn deep brown or black, and there’s this moodiness and drama.

What’s something a meadow reveals about a place that a traditional landscape might hide?

When you sow a meadow and watch it over time, you will see plants congregate and thrive according to their environment. Bluestem loves sandy soil and will settle in dry construction areas, while Echinacea will thrive at the outskirts of a tree canopy.

When you think about the future of meadows in the built world, what feels realistic—and what still feels out of reach?

It seems that the world is interested in meadows, and there’s a newfound appreciation for them. Unfortunately, ticks and Lyme disease in the Northeast have made people fear meadows. Until there’s a solution for Lyme disease, meadows will be used mostly in larger landscapes where there is less foot traffic.

To explore Abby Clough Lawless' work and get in touch, visit her website at www.farmdesignllc.com