Recently, I took my young nephew to a park and found myself paying more attention to the ground than to the play equipment.
A standard play structure had been placed within a lawn. Over time, the grass had worn away where children repeatedly ran and stepped, leaving patches of exposed soil. The irrigation system, however, continued to work as usual. After watering or rain, water collected in some of these areas, the soil turned muddy, and parts of the space intended for play became difficult to use.
What stayed with me was not the fact that the equipment was plastic, or that the park itself was simple. The real issue was that the play equipment and the landscape seemed to have been designed as two separate systems.
Where children would run, where the ground would wear down, where water would move, when shade would fall, and how the planting would change over time were all part of the same space. Yet in many playgrounds, the equipment seems to come first, while landscape is treated as something that fills whatever is left around it.
SITE READING
What changes when the landscape itself becomes part of play?
That was the question I left with. What changes if we stop treating a playground as a surface where equipment is placed, and instead think of topography, water, planting, shade and materials as one living system?
The role of landscape changes with age
Some time later, while looking through a brief for another children’s play space, I came back to the same question from a different direction. This time, the brief was not only about equipment. It considered topography, water and sand, planting, shade, drainage and adult sightlines as parts of the same design. One of the things that stood out to me most was age.
When we say we are designing “for children,” we are actually talking about a very broad group of users. For one- to two-year-olds, discovery happens much closer to the ground; a small change in level, a different texture underfoot or a leaf within reach can already become part of the experience. For two- to five-year-olds, movement becomes more active: running, climbing, rolling, hiding, playing with water or shaping sand.
By around five to eight, choosing routes, balancing and finding a way through a space can become part of the play itself. For eight- to twelve-year-olds, movement can be joined by more independent exploration, social play and more complex decisions. I do not see these as rigid boundaries; two children of the same age can have completely different interests and ways of moving through a space. But it reminds me of something important: there is no single “child user” of a playground.
The CPSC Public Playground Safety Handbook also treats age-appropriate design, layout, supervision and protective surfacing as connected parts of playground planning.
Topography can become part of the play
One of the most useful tools landscape architecture brings to a play space is topography. A small grass mound does not have to be only a mound. A child can climb one side, roll down the other, meet someone at the top, run around it, or turn it into something completely different through imagination.
Shallow depressions, paths connecting different levels and simple balancing points can work in the same way. They do not have to prescribe one specific use. That is what interests me most about this approach: the design does not constantly tell the child what to do. It leaves room for possibilities.
A 2024 systematic review of outdoor play environments looked at features including natural elements, terrain, fixed equipment, loose parts and usable space. The findings vary across studies, so I think it is important not to simplify the discussion into “natural is always better.” For me, the more useful question is how different spatial qualities can support different forms of play.
PLANT / SPACE
Planting does not have to be decoration
Plants can define a route, create a child-sized niche, provide texture or become part of the spatial experience itself. Morus alba ‘Chaparral’ is one example I particularly like. At the Missouri Botanical Garden’s Children’s Garden, two weeping specimens were planted about 1.5 metres apart and their hanging branches were trained to form a tent-like play space that children could enter.
What interests me here is not the idea of copying a particular tree species. It is the spatial idea behind it: a tree is no longer only something that provides shade. It can become a room.
ROUTE / EXPLORATION
A planted maze and a harvestable landscape
The same way of thinking can extend to a planted maze. A child chooses a path, reaches a dead end, turns back, looks for a friend or tries another route. The planting does not need to be tall enough to completely hide the child either. It can create a feeling of enclosure while still allowing adults to maintain visual contact. At that point, the route itself becomes part of the play.
I also find the idea of an edible or harvestable landscape interesting when the project conditions allow it. There is a small but important distinction here: according to Oregon State University, Morus alba ‘Chaparral’ is a male, non-fruiting cultivar, while the weeping ‘Pendula’ form can fruit. With carefully selected, child-safe species, planting can offer more than appearance: children can notice seasonal change, flowering and fruiting over time.
Water, surfaces and the option to step back
Water and sand have a similar quality: their use is not completely predetermined. A low-flow water outlet might feed a shallow channel. The water can move between stones, change direction and eventually reach a sand area. A shallow dry creek can remain empty most of the time and briefly carry water after rainfall.
In that moment, the child is not only playing with water. They are also seeing how water moves through a landscape. But this is also where the romantic part of the idea ends and the technical side begins. Where will the water drain? Could stagnant water form? How will repeated use affect the ground? Is there enough shade? Who will maintain it?
WATER / SURFACE / COMFORT
Performance should be designed as carefully as play.
I do not think rubber safety surfacing should simply be treated as something inherently bad. Around equipment with fall risks, tested impact-attenuating surfaces play an important role in safety, and the CPSC handbook treats the installation and maintenance of protective surfacing as a fundamental safety consideration.
But that does not mean an entire play space has to become one continuous material. Rubber can be used where it performs a specific safety role, while other areas can introduce grass, sand, timber or other appropriate natural surfaces.
There is another part of the experience that matters as well: not every child wants to be running, climbing or surrounded by intense stimulation all the time. ASLA’s Universal Design: Playgrounds guide discusses combining different levels of sensory experience with accessible routes, landform and quieter spaces. Sometimes a small shaded place beside the active play area may be just as valuable as adding another piece of equipment.
The landscape does not have to remain in the background
When I think back to the worn patch of grass in that first park, the original problem seems very ordinary. The grass had disappeared, and water was collecting. But once I started thinking about it more carefully, it stopped being only a problem of grass or drainage.
Movement, ground durability, water, planting, shade, maintenance and play were all connected. And this is also where I think we need to avoid romanticising “natural” design. A planted maze needs maintenance. Water needs drainage. Timber ages. Fruit-bearing trees create litter. Grass mounds can wear down under repeated use. And not every project has an unlimited budget.
THE PROBLEM I NOTICED
Equipment and landscape designed separately
When the play element, ground, water, shade and maintenance are treated as separate decisions, a small failure can eventually affect how the whole space works.
MY APPROACH
Design the relationships, not only the elements
If there is a slide, consider its relationship with topography, shade and circulation. If a tree is part of the play experience, think about the form it may take years later. If water is introduced, design its drainage together with its play value.
Perhaps one of the strongest things landscape architecture can bring to children’s play spaces is this: Instead of designing every game in advance, design the possibilities from which play can emerge.
A mound can become movement. A tree can become a room. A maze can become a wayfinding game. Water can be redirected. Sand can be reshaped. One child can run straight into the activity while another watches quietly from the shade a few metres away.
The landscape does not have to remain the background to all of this. It can become a living part of the play itself.
SOURCES I REFERRED TO WHILE THINKING THROUGH THIS ARTICLE
U.S. Consumer Product Safety Commission — Public Playground Safety Handbook
Guidance on age-appropriate design, supervision, playground layout and protective surfacing.
ASLA — Universal Design: Playgrounds
Design guidance on inclusive play, sensory experience, quieter spaces, landform and accessible routes.
Pereira et al. (2024) — Systematic Review
A review of research relating outdoor play features, natural elements, terrain and loose parts to children’s behaviour and health.
Missouri Botanical Garden — Morus alba ‘Chaparral’
Plant reference documenting the Children’s Garden example of weeping mulberries trained into a tent-like play space.
Oregon State University — Morus alba ‘Chaparral’
Botanical reference for the cultivar, including its weeping form and non-fruiting male character.