When my partner and I bought our forever home in Greenwood Village, we knew we were taking on more than a mortgage—we were inheriting a yard that had been neglected for decades. The front yard was a patchy mix of overwatered grass and confused flower beds. The backyard, though? That was the heartbreaker. Crumbling pavers, rusted furniture, and a slope that made it almost unusable. Still, we saw the potential. We saw the vision. What we didn’t know was how hard it would be to find the right team to bring it to life.
So we started asking questions.
I kept a notebook where I jotted down every question that came to mind:
– What style of landscaping do you specialize in?
– Do you provide design and installation, or will I need to coordinate between teams?
– Can I see a portfolio of work—especially before and after photos?
– How do you handle drainage and grading on sloped properties?
– What kind of maintenance should I expect from this design?
– Do you work with natural stone or composite materials?
– How far out are you scheduling? How long will the project take?
The first couple of companies I contacted were underwhelming. One sent a PDF with three layout options and zero personality. Another ghosted us after an initial call. We realized quickly we needed more than a crew—we needed a creative partner.
So we turned to our friends. We’re in a tight-knit community, and several of our neighbors have jaw-dropping yards. I spent one weekend walking house to house with a coffee in hand, collecting stories, names, and—more importantly—warnings.
My friend Dana had hired a company for her patio and pool surround. The design was stunning, but two years later, the stone was crumbling. Turns out the contractor hadn’t accounted for Colorado’s freeze-thaw cycles. “I saved a little money up front,” she said, “and it cost me five times more to redo it.”
Then there was Tom and Melissa, who have the most beautiful outdoor fireplace setup I’ve ever seen. I asked who built it, and they raved about their contractor, especially his communication. “He gave us homework,” Melissa told me. “He made us sketch what we wanted, then showed us how to improve it. It was like a design class.” I wrote that company name down in all caps.
And then there was Caleb. Poor guy. He hired a budget team off Craigslist, and while the work got done fast, it didn’t get done well. His sprinkler system flooded the lawn every spring, and the paver walkway settled unevenly within months. “Never again,” he told me. “I thought I was saving money. I was buying headaches.”
Armed with stories, notes, and a clearer idea of what I didn’t want, I found myself searching online late one night for high-end landscaping in Greenwood Village. I clicked on a site that didn’t scream “contractor.” It looked like a design studio. I browsed their projects—water features, terraces, lighting plans, patios with built-in seating. Every image felt thoughtful. I filled out the contact form.
The call that followed felt different. The designer didn’t talk pricing. He asked about how we lived. What kinds of gatherings we hosted. Where the sun hits in late afternoon. What we wanted to *feel* when we stepped outside. We talked for nearly an hour. When I hung up, I knew.
In the weeks that followed, the team came out to our home multiple times. They flagged the slope issues in the back and proposed a multi-level terrace with built-in seating and retaining walls that doubled as planting beds. They reimagined the side yard as a hidden garden path lit with soft LEDs. In the front, they suggested raised beds bordered with steel, filled with drought-tolerant native plants. It was part sustainability, part sculpture.
We decided on limestone pavers for the walkways and a custom wood pergola for the dining area. They helped us choose lighting with warm tones and designed a zone-controlled irrigation system tailored to the microclimates across the yard. When they told us they’d also take care of holiday lighting installation in Greenwood Village, I nearly cried from joy. One less vendor to coordinate.
The installation took a full season, but the result? Worth every wait.
Now, our home feels like it was meant to sit on this lot. The front yard has structure and grace. The backyard is a gathering place. We’ve hosted dinners, bonfires, a surprise birthday party under the pergola. Guests are stunned. And I always smile, remembering the notepad full of questions and the lessons from Dana, Melissa, Tom, and poor Caleb.
If you’re looking for high-end landscaping in Greenwood Village, my biggest advice is this: Talk to your friends. Ask hard questions. Choose the team that sees what you *feel*—not just what you say.
The right landscaping company won’t just improve your yard. They’ll elevate your life.
