The Yard I Don't Know How to Manage

We recently left the 750-acre farm I managed and moved into a suburban lot—less than an acre, wooded, familiar yet entirely new. The plot is generous for a suburb, but it's nothing like the working estate systems I'm used to. And that's exactly what caught my attention.

It started with a practical problem: where do I put all these leaves? On a 750-acre estate, you pile them somewhere out of sight and let them compost over time. But on a suburban lot, there's no hidden corner big enough. I could bag them for the landfill or pay someone to haul them away, but I'm a do-it-yourselfer—neither option sat right.

That's when the question shifted: what if I just... didn't move them at all? What if I let portions of the yard return to nature? Let the leaves lie. Let parts of the lawn drift back. Let nature do what nature does.

That realization triggered something unexpected.

A Different Kind of Management

This is a whole new realm of learning. Managing property by letting go of some maintenance tasks—by allowing natural processes to take over—requires a different mindset. It's not about control or efficiency. It's about observation, patience, and harmony.

On the farm I managed, I rarely experimented with that approach. Everything was maintained, scheduled, accounted for. On this lot, I'm beginning to see what happens when you step back instead of stepping in.

I've already noticed things I didn't expect. The deeper leaf layer warms the soil. Small saplings appear where there were none. Insects multiply. The rhythm is slower. The variable is fewer hours of mowing, fewer inputs, fewer decisions—but more watching.

It's humbling. It reminds me that not all estate management is about more control. Some of it is about less control, more oversight, more patience. Some of it is about recognizing when nature can do the work better than you can.

The Gap I Didn't Know I Had

As I started thinking through this transition, I realized something else: I don't have the expert in my network I should.

I know estate systems well—driveways, irrigation, security, asset management. I can tell you how to grade a road, service a gate, audit a mechanical system. But natural landscaping? Native plantings? Habitat restoration at the scale of a suburban lot? That's a different language.

And if I don't have that expert, then I can't serve clients who want that expertise either.

That matters. Because more property owners are asking these questions now. They're wondering how to manage wooded parcels without clear-cutting. They're curious about reducing lawn maintenance. They want to support pollinators, create wildlife corridors, or let portions of their land follow natural succession instead of being manicured into submission.

Those aren't fringe requests anymore. They're part of thoughtful land stewardship. And if I can't connect a client to the right person for that work, I'm not doing my job.

Building The Estate Alliance

This is why I'm building The Estate Alliance—a vetted network of experts and peer professionals across domains I may not always lead, but that my clients may need.

When a client says, "I want to naturalize a wooded parcel," I want to connect them to someone who specializes in that work—while I still manage the perimeter fence, the smart gate, the asset inventory, and the weekly inspections. The Alliance ensures they get the right expert for every part of their property, not just the parts I know best.

I already have several businesses in the Alliance, and I'm continuing to build it. But I'm missing the natural landscaping piece. And that's where I need help.

Who I'm Looking For

If you know a professional who works in native plant landscaping, rewilding suburban or rural lots, small-scale habitat restoration, or natural yard transitions—someone who understands how to blend management with letting nature take its course—I'd love to hear about them.

I'm not looking for a landscaper who can install sod and trim hedges. I'm looking for someone who thinks in terms of ecosystems, native plant communities, and long-term ecological health. Someone who can plan and manage a transition from high-maintenance turf to something more sustainable and alive.

If you know that person, or if you are that person, please reach out. I'll start the vetting process from there, and if it's a good fit, they'll become part of the Alliance—available to clients when they need that kind of expertise.

What I'm Learning

On our wooded lot, I'm doing two things simultaneously: clearing some leaves where it makes sense, but also designating "wild pockets"—zones where I'll let nature reclaim the space.

It's a slower rhythm. The work is less visible. There's no dramatic before-and-after. But there's something happening beneath the surface—literally. The soil is changing. The life in it is multiplying. The system is finding its own balance.

And as I learn this, I'm thinking of clients whose land may benefit from similar transitions. Not full rewilding, but hybrid care: some lawn, some meadow, some managed wild space. A property that works with nature instead of constantly working against it.

That's the kind of estate management I want to be able to offer. Not just the mechanical systems and the asset inventories, but the ecological systems too. And to do that well, I need the right people in the network.

An Invitation

If you've explored this kind of natural landscaping, or if you know someone who does it well, I'd love to hear from you. Share their name. Tell me what impressed you. Help me build this piece of the Alliance so that when the next client asks, I have someone to connect them with.

Because the properties we care for are more than fences and driveways. They're pieces of land—systems of nature and infrastructure, often both at once. And the best way to manage them is to know when to step in, and when to step back and let the yard teach you something new.