A Transformation in the Milkweeds
Matthew Cunningham Landscape Design tapped Terrapin Landscapes to create an outdoor spa and entertaining area as part of their grand landscape design for this Cape Elizabeth property.
written by
Michael Colbert
photography by
François Gagné
For many landscape architects and designers who work in Maine, an abiding love of the state’s distinctive beauty guides every choice they make. For Arundel-based Terrapin Landscapes, leaving the environment better than how they found it is mission critical.
“We work in some of the most beautiful and unique locations in Maine and also very environmentally sensitive areas like sand dunes, salt flats, and rock bluffs,” says Mike Corsie, Terrapin’s founder.
“We want to take a property that’s maybe not so environmentally friendly and turn it into something that not only beautifies the location and gives the client something that they can enjoy but will also, long term, be sustainable and healthy for the environment,” he adds.
So when Matthew Cunningham Landscape Design enlisted Terrapin to create a backyard wellness and entertaining sanctuary at a home in Cape Elizabeth overlooking Casco Bay, Terrapin was thrilled to dive in.
The homeowners dreamed up a beautiful, infinity edge pool with an accompanying hot tub. Though they originally imagined a gunite hot tub to match the swimming pool, when they found a prefabricated spa that suited their taste, Terrapin ingeniously integrated the structure into the landscape with the help of carpenter Mark Simoncic. They built a recessed vault to house the spa, and Mark covered it with a custom ipe wood deck. Surrounding greenery allows the water features to melt into the backyard and, beyond that, the bay.
“We didn’t want this to be a big, hulking stone site,” Mike says. “The planting there was extensive and softens the hardness of all the stonework.”
The backyard perches above rocky bluffs, and the site’s structural elements presented invitations for innovation. Terrapin hand-selected reclaimed granite street curbing to construct a staircase down to the lower-level beach access, saving material that already has rich patina from being crushed up or disposed. For the pool’s fence, they used a wire mesh that disappears into the natural screen offered by the abundant plant life.
Working within the lawn’s grade, Mike saw an opportunity to integrate the entertaining area and enhance the integrity of the site. The plantings alongside the back of the pool help hold the slope and thus prevent erosion while also attracting pollinators. Previously, manicured lawn spread across the entire site. Milkweed, New England asters, and highbush blueberries have completely transformed the feeling of the land while assisting with runoff and improving privacy, an added bonus for days spent by the pool.
By replacing the lawn with these plants, the backyard has already begun to evolve and provide new habitat for native wildlife. Both Terrapin and the homeowners began to observe the changes almost immediately. The year they completed the project, Monarch caterpillars started returning to the land.▪
The Setting and the Story
Gregory Lombardi brought unity to a creative parcel of lakefront land
written by
Michael Colbert
photography by
Greg Premru
When Gregory Lombardi gets to work on a site, he puts on his cinematographer’s hat. “Landscapes are a three-dimensional movie,” he says. “You live in it, and there are different ways for creating scenes for people to live their lives.”
“Our whole firm has been built around the idea that there’s not one stylistic idiom we have to follow,” he adds. “We’re going to listen to you, look at the site, and see what it wants to be. How can we amplify the best parts of it and create a story?”
With a background in art and architectural history, Gregory aims to uncover the unique narrative underneath each project. To do this, he studies the “placeness of it” and emphasizes the setting in the story.
When he signed on to a lakefront project, he swiftly understood the narrative that the homeowners and the site were already composing. The couple had raised a family in the metro Boston area. After their kids left for college, they found a property adjacent to where the husband had spent summers as a child. They subsequently purchased a neighboring property to assemble a larger parcel of land for their family compound, but this presented somewhat of a head-scratcher—a road ran through it.
“We had to carefully craft the visual identity across this drive,” Gregory says. “How do we make these things feel connected?”
They orchestrated a dialogue through material unity between the site’s main house, guesthouse, and party barn. Reclaimed material patinaed and emphasized the region’s history—board and batten, white painted shiplap, granite, metal roofs.
“They spoke to each other, but they weren’t identical,” Gregory says. “The material became the North Star. We weren’t going to introduce something that wouldn’t have happened there. It had to be, in some ways, familiar but handled in a way that was fresh.”
Take the driveway, for example.
“I was concerned that the spirit of this very relaxed, barefoot on a lake, unspoiled landscape was going to be rendered suburban, and thus foreign to where we were making the story,” Gregory says. “So I said, ‘Why don’t we try to make the driveways not look like driveways? Why aren’t they assemblages of really beautiful materials, and they suggest where you can put the car?’”
They reinforced grass in select areas, and parallel tire tracks suggested where cars could park without dominating the landscape.
When structuring areas for outdoor play, they situated contemporary creature comforts to preserve the lake’s natural assets. A grilling terrace notches a tier below the main terrace; from inside, the Viking range is hidden, and the lake views remain pristine.
They designated entertaining areas for each building as well. A reclaimed granite terrace perches out of the party barn with a serene lake view, while the guesthouse nestles into the trees with more immediate access to the water.
The sum of these choices creates a home that’s ready to tell the next multigenerational family saga.
“With vacation homes, you want to have people be alone together,” Gregory says. “If the 20-year-old son has some friends over and they want to sit by the lake, they can go there, but if someone else wants to sit outside, there’s an elevated terrace.”
“Without everything happening on top of each other, there were all these places where people could go and feel both that it’s intimate and they are connected.”▪
Outstanding in Her Field
Partnering with Feral Form, an Emmy and Peabody award-winning filmmaker imagined a new frontier
written by
Michael Colbert
photography by
François Gagné
Maro Chermayeff comes from a distinguished line of architects and designers. Her father, the graphic designer Ivan Chermayeff, created iconic logos for everything from Mobil to NBC, and her uncle, the renowned architect Peter Chermayeff, designed among other major works, the New England Aquarium.
Maro cut her teeth in creative fields. She is the founder of the MFA program in documentary film at The School of Visual Arts in New York, which she ran for 17 years before returning to filmmaking. At the onset of the pandemic, she followed her soon-to-be-husband, Charlie, a cardiologist/electrophysiologist at Maine Medical Center, and relocated to Maine full time.
When they landed in Cumberland, she became enthralled by what their home in Maine could offer.
“It was quite a bit of land to play with,” Maro says. “You can either become a sort of Jasper Conran with English gardens that are completely curated for five acres, or you can be more truthful to where you are and the indigenous, plants, trees, and foliage.”
“This is Maine. It’s got to be a little bit wild. It’s got to be a little bit adventurous. It’s got to be a little bit craggy.”
Inspired by what the land could hold, she found the perfect partner in Elan Bills of Feral Form.
“We are completely in a Vulcan mind meld,” Maro says. “I can make strange references, and he’ll absolutely know what I mean. It was a real match.”
Elan taught Maro about rewilding the landscape. Together, they paid attention to seasonality, planting 4,000 daffodils that would give way to black-eyed Susans. All summer the fields drew hundreds of bees and monarch butterflies.
Maro dreamed of building a swimming pool, a place to relax within the lush expanse.
“The field around her property was very beautiful and had a lot of great native plants,” Elan says. “Instead of fighting it and doing something more architectural, we kept it wild and used the existing terrain and contextual landscape and integrated that into the pool area.”
Elan mapped out three zones for the property. He canvassed the undisturbed meadow at the farthest reaches to assess what plant species to incorporate in the zones closer to the home. A middle zone used a seed mix that incorporated native plants while introducing some others, creating a gradient from the pristine meadow to the swimming pool, the third zone.
“We worked from this curated vision within the pool area—taking those existing plants and organizing them—then it radiates to the existing meadow,” Elan says. “I wanted it to feel like the pool is dropped into a field. You make your way down this meandering path, and it’s fairly wild, and you arrive at a pool.”
To conceal the utilities, Maro and Elan designed a serene pool house, mixing French countryside and Japanese aesthetics. She used shou sugi ban—a Japanese charred cedar—for the walls and reclaimed barn wood for the floors. Inside, four futons spread in the sunlight.
“No one goes into that room and doesn’t fall asleep,” Maro says.
“A lot of clients don’t use their properties, but Maro is always in her pool house,” Elan adds. “It’s this magical zone, this tiny little nook. She did a really wonderful job.”▪
An Element of Surprise
Beginning from a place of clarity, Ted Carter plants mystery into a poolscape
photography by François Gagné
For landscape designer Ted Carter, a garden should do more than please the eye, it should invite exploration. “As one enters a designed space,” he says, “there should be a sense of mystery and intrigue.”
That sense of discovery is woven throughout this project, where Ted transforms a traditional backyard into an experience that unfolds gradually. The swimming pool, for instance, is cleverly tucked into an elevated terrace, hidden just enough to separate the practical from the poetic. Beyond the stone wall and layered plantings lies a world waiting to be uncovered.
Ted is a firm believer that great design begins with clarity. Visitors should instinctively know where to park, which door to approach, and how to move through the space. The entry walk sets the tone and is a welcoming path nestled in lush greenery. Designed to comfortably accommodate a couple walking side by side, the steps are carefully calibrated for what Ted calls “a glide to your stride” as guests approach the entry landing.
From inside the home, the first glimpse through the rear windows reveals a serene view of the rolling hills of the Webhannet Golf Course. It’s only after a few moments that visitors notice something else, a shimmering pool framed by generous terraces and thoughtfully defined gathering spaces.
The poolscape is designed to draw you in without overwhelming the eye. The first view lands on a tranquil lounging area, then gradually opens to a dining space anchored by a gas fire pit. Ted describes this as a “gracious unfolding of space,” where each area has a clear purpose yet flows naturally into the next.
“Poolside living has its own kind of rhythm,” Ted explains. His designs always treat it as a separate experience. Lounging, dining, and fireside gathering areas are each set apart with planters or pockets of greenery, creating intimacy and balance within the larger terrace.
And then there’s the fire pit, which is a timeless gathering place. Carter insists on designing fire pits in the round, with seating on all sides. “There’s something primal about a circle of fire,” he says. “It sparks conversation, laughter, and stories that last long into the night.”
Because for Ted Carter, the magic of landscape design lies not just in what you see, but in how it makes you feel as you move through it. Every path, every view, every flicker of flame is part of the journey.
Beyond the Fence
Gavin Boyce-Ratliff’s Naturalistic Designs Sow a Lush Future
written by
Michael Colbert
“There is a shift happening in Maine’s gardens right now,” says Gavin Boyce-Ratliff of GBR Landscape Design. “As our climate changes and people spend more time at home, traditional garden practices no longer align with the resilient, ecologically conscious landscapes we need for the future.”
At GBR Landscape Design, Gavin aspires to become central to that movement, encouraging and supporting people in transitioning to more natural and sustainable landscapes.
Though today he designs gardens across the country, Gavin is a New England native who’s made his home in Brunswick, and he connects strongly with the region’s vernacular and “Yankee ingenuity.”
“People here want gardens that are practical, usable, and unmistakably of this place,” he explains. “Being able to design and cultivate spaces that complement Maine’s landscapes, rather than fight them, has been a meaningful part of my work.”
This Yankee ethos also equips the people he works with to respond well to the changing climate.
“Everything starts in the landscape,” Gavin says. “Good garden design begins with a deep understanding of the site—its soils, existing plants, microclimates, and overall character—rather than just plans on paper,” he says. By learning from the land itself, he can create gardens that are resilient, ecologically focused, and built to thrive for the long term.
At GBRLD, it’s about “Right plant, right place,” Gavin says. “We challenge strict dogmas like ‘native-only,’ and the rigid spacing recommendations found on labels. Instead, we aim for dense, layered plantings that emulate natural systems—meadows, early succession landscapes, and plant communities that move and behave as they would in nature.”
This has practical benefits. Dense plantings reduce weeds, support pollinators, and foster self-sustaining plant communities. “Plants work together,” Gavin explains. “The more they can interact, compete, and support each other, the healthier and more interesting the garden becomes over time.”
The sum of these choices builds a garden designed for longevity.
“We need to be designing for the future,” Gavin says. “We’re at this critical crossroads where we have to think hard about what we want the landscape to look like here in in 5, 10, 50 years.”
Climate adaptation is central to his design strategy. “We study landscapes in Southern New England, New York, and Pennsylvania to see which species are thriving in warmer winters and with variable moisture,” he says. “Species like shagbark hickories, black gum, and a few oaks have been positive case studies and show potential for Maine’s future landscapes. But adaptation isn’t just about adding new plants—it’s about integrating them thoughtfully, so they integrate successfully with local ecosystems.”
Yet ecological resilience doesn’t have to come at the expense of beauty. “Naturalistic gardens are places of refuge,” Gavin says. “A client might want rich pollinator habitat, but also a few peonies that remind them of childhood landscapes. Both goals are important. When people love being in their gardens, they invest in them, steward them, and are more likely to support wild spaces beyond their own fences.”
Ultimately, Gavin sees every garden as part of a broader ecological story. “We’re designing for the future,” he says. “Every thoughtful planting, every design choice contributes to landscapes that can endure for the long haul. We should be gardening for a changing climate and equally trying to inspire people to care for the land around them.” ▪
Four takeaways for your own garden:
1. Get to know your land
Before choosing plants, walk your property, dig in the soil, and look at existing vegetation. Ask: What soils do I have? Where is water pooling or draining? Which plants are already thriving (or suffering)?
2. Embrace density
Instead of single specimens spaced widely, aim for large swaths of species that create a legibility across the site and mimic natural plant communities. The effect? Quicker establishment, less weeding and maintenance, richer wildlife habitat, and a more compelling aesthetic.
3. Prioritize ‘right plant, right place’
“When in doubt, go native,” he says – but keep an open mind, and recognize that the ‘native’ labels we place on plants is incredibly nuanced and sometimes counterproductive. “As the saying goes, the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. This applies to the unpredictability of climate change and our gardens.”
4. Make it personal
Ecological engagement and stewardship are important, but so is joy. Include plants you love, and that excite you, and blend them into a naturalistic scene. These gardens require our care and input, so we ought to enjoy them too.
