The Foundation of WFO
The first trees I ever became enamored with was a grove of American Beech trees growing along a hillside behind my grandparents’ home. During the winters in the Eastern United States the woods turned quiet and gray, but every now and then you would see flashes of bright orange all through the forest. The flashes were the dead leaves of the American Beech, still hanging on to the branch throughout the dormant season. Botanists call this marcescence: some trees keep their dead leaves through winter instead of letting them fall. I didn't know the word then. I just knew that in a forest where everything had gone to sleep, the beech was the one tree still putting on a show. It's been my favorite tree ever since.
I think about that feeling often in my work, walking through something ordinary and then finding a moment that stops you. I created Wayland Field Office in large part as a vessel that could allow me to create the conditions necessary for moments like that.
Where I come from
I grew up in Birmingham, and before I ever thought about designing landscapes, I studied them as a biologist. I learned to look at a place as a living system: soil, water, light, and the plants and animals that make it work. That way of seeing never left me. When I went on to earn my Master of Landscape Architecture at Auburn, it became the foundation for how I design.
In the years since, I've worked on projects of every scale. I led the team that designed the Effie Lee Newsome Garden, which earned a Gold Medal at the Philadelphia Flower Show. I spent years in professional practice in Birmingham, and that work was recognized with a 2024 ASLA Alabama Chapter Professional Award. Those experiences taught me that good landscapes need two things at once: the patience to understand a place and the rigor to build something that will last in it.
Why New Orleans?
My partner and I moved to New Orleans recently, and I'll admit it: I'm still new here, but I don't see that as a weakness. Coming to a place with fresh eyes means you notice what locals have stopped seeing. I notice how the light filters through live oak canopy in the late afternoon, how quickly a garden can flood and then dry out, and how cypress knees rise out of the water like they're keeping watch.
The Gulf South has one of the most distinctive landscapes in the country. It's hot, wet, low, and wildly alive. From the courtyards of the city to the pine and oak country of the North Shore, this region deserves gardens that belong here and don't just survive here.
Why a small practice?
Wayland Field Office is a solo practice by design. I take on a limited number of projects each year so that each one gets my full attention. When you work with WFO, you work with me, from the first site walk through the day the last plant goes in the ground. There's no handoff to a junior designer and no losing the thread between the idea and the result.
I think the best residential landscapes come from a close relationship between the designer, the client, and the land. That relationship is hard to keep when a practice gets too big. So I plan to keep it small.
What’s in a name?
People sometimes ask about the name. It comes from two words that seem to pull in opposite directions.
Field is about wonder and exploration. It's the part of the work where you get outside, get curious, and let a place teach you something.
Office is about structure and follow-through. It's the drawings, the details, the coordination, and the discipline to see a project all the way to the finish.
The tension between those two words is the whole point. I've always admired the spirit of scouting, which manages to be adventurous and organized, joyful and rigorous, all at once. That balance is what I want every WFO project to have. And yes, "land" hiding inside my last name is a happy accident. I'll take it.
What I believe about design
I believe a landscape should grow out of what's already there. On one of my current projects, an existing cypress on the property became the anchor for the entire design. The wood grain and color of the new deck were chosen to echo that tree, so the new work feels like it has always been in conversation with the old. That's the kind of thinking I want in every project: listen first, then build something that fits.
I'm also working toward something larger. I want to develop a planting style rooted in the Gulf South, one that uses perennials and native plants to create gardens that are lush, layered, and full of life across the seasons, while standing up to the heat, the rain, and the storms. Over time, I hope that style becomes a signature for Wayland Field Office.
What I hope to accomplish
My goals for WFO are simple to say and will take years to earn:
Create spaces in New Orleans and across the Gulf South that are thoughtful, beautiful, and built to last.
Develop a new planting language that feels unmistakably of this place.
Stay involved with gardens as they grow, because a landscape isn't finished on installation day. That's simply where it begins.
What you'll find here
Field Notes is where I'll share my thoughts, and WFO’s work as it happens: project stories, notes on plants that thrive in our climate, observations from the field, and a look at how ideas turn into built places. You'll probably also meet Scout, my golden retriever, who considers herself a senior member of the firm and inspects every site with great enthusiasm.
Breaking new ground
There's an old proverb, usually called Greek, that says a society grows great when old men plant trees whose shade they know they will never sit in. The American beech might be the best example of that idea. It grows slowly, lives for centuries, and takes years to settle in before it truly offers its winter presence. Planting one today sets in motion a process that will create a special moment for someone else in some distant future.
This is the guiding North Star for WFO, and I am beyond exciting to start this journey. Thank you for being here at the start!
Alex Wayland, Founder