From Dream to Deadwood: Starting High Water Bonsai Co.

Starting a bonsai nursery in South Texas might sound a little ambitious — or a little crazy. Searing heat, dry wind, and surprise freezes aren’t exactly textbook growing conditions. But bonsai has never been about easy conditions. It’s about working with what you’re given. Adapting. Paying attention. Building something resilient.

That mindset feels familiar to me.

The Land of the Pines

I grew up on a farm in rural Georgia, shaped by red clay, open fields, and long stretches of woods. My grandfather served as Colonel of the Georgia Department of Natural Resources, so conversations about land, conservation, and stewardship weren’t abstract — they were dinner table topics. Time outside wasn’t scheduled. It was assumed.

I spent hours wandering among pine trees — noticing bark texture, the way light filtered through needles, how trunks leaned and twisted toward space. I didn’t have language for it then, but I was already studying form, movement, and resilience.

Bonsai came later.

As a young adult in North Carolina and Florida, I practiced casually — a ficus on a patio, a juniper that may or may not have survived my early wiring experiments. It was interesting, but not yet essential.

Years passed. My career grew. Responsibility expanded.

As a nonprofit executive, my days are full — strategy, fundraising, leadership, constant decision-making. Somewhere along the way, I realized I needed something tactile. Something quiet. Something slower than quarterly goals and board meetings.

So I bought one tree.

One became ten. One bench became five. Morning coffee turned into checking soil moisture, adjusting wire, rotating pots for even light. The bonsai bug had bitten — hard.

Then something unexpected happened.

Friends began asking, “Where are you getting your material?” “Is there anywhere local to buy good pre-bonsai?” “Can you help me find something better than what’s at the big box store?”

In December 2024, I sold my first pre-bonsai tree to a colleague. By January 2025, I joined SABS and was building High Water Bonsai.

Getting Serious

There’s a difference between enjoying bonsai and committing to it. For me, that shift happened last summer.

I traveled to England to spend time with Peter Chan at Herons Bonsai and Corin Tomlinson at Greenwood Bonsai Studio — two very different nurseries, both deeply inspiring.

At Herons, what struck me first was scale: rows of refined trees, pre-bonsai, field-grown material, tools, pots — a full ecosystem built around bonsai culture. More than that, it was the seriousness of purpose. Bonsai wasn’t treated as a side hobby, but as horticulture, art, and discipline all at once.

At Greenwood, the experience was equally powerful but more intimate. Educational. Intentional. Every tree had a story. Every conversation with Corin became a lesson. It wasn’t just retail — it was mentorship disguised as a nursery visit.

I came home changed.

Lessons from the Road

What I saw overseas wasn’t just impressive trees — it was a blueprint. Peter and Corin were generous with their time, their knowledge, and their advice. Here’s what I brought back across the Atlantic: 

1. Community Is Everything
Herons and Greenwood aren’t simply selling trees. They’re building community — study groups, workshops, shared learning. They are amplifying their local bonsai chapters. They are gathering places.

If High Water Bonsai becomes anything worthwhile, it will be because people learn together here — beginners and masters side by side.

2. Quality Matters
Seeing world-class trees in person recalibrates your standards. It forces you to ask: What am I growing? What am I training? What am I offering?

San Antonio deserves high-quality material — from starter stock to artist-level trees — without having to travel across the country.

3. Patience Is the Real Investment
Starting a nursery is humbling. Trees don’t rush. Growth takes time. Soil doesn’t mix itself. Shade structures and irrigation lines don’t build themselves.

Bonsai teaches the long view. We shape trees for years we may never fully see. Building High Water Bonsai feels the same — planting something that will mature alongside this incredible community.

Why “High Water”?

We live on the Southwest side of San Antonio. In Texas, high water means flood season — when rivers swell and landscapes change.

In bonsai, growth often follows stress: after pruning, wiring, repotting. High water can mean risk — but it also means renewal.

Our nursery was born in a season of taking risks. Choosing cultivation over convenience. And hoping that, in time, we leave a high-water mark on Texas bonsai.

What’s Next

High Water Bonsai opens its gates for the first time on Saturday, March 21. We’ll have pre-bonsai stock, trees in training, native Texas material, food and drinks — and plenty of room to talk trees.

More than anything, I hope it becomes a place where the San Antonio Bonsai Society feels at home. A place for workshops, study sessions, and spontaneous Saturday morning conversations about nebari and branch selection.

Progress in bonsai happens slowly. But it starts somewhere.

I hope you’ll join us at High Water Bonsai on March 21 and help shape what comes next.

This article was originally published in the San Antonio Bonsai Society’s March 2026 newsletter.