A Day at the Huntington
Whenever I visit home in Los Angeles, I spend a full day at the Huntington Gardens, Art Museum, and Library. It’s the one plan that never feels optional. No matter how short the trip is, I make the time and let everything else work around it.
What draws me back is how deeply the history of the place is embedded in the experience. The Huntington began as Henry E. Huntington’s private estate in the early twentieth century, shaped gradually rather than designed all at once. What eventually became public gardens, galleries, and a research library grew out of long-term collecting, careful planning, and patience. That history still shows in the way the grounds feel today. The space does not feel designed for quick visits or crowded itineraries; it feels built with the expectation that people would stay awhile.
The Desert Garden is where that sense of time feels most tangible to me. Established in 1907, it is one of the oldest and largest collections of its kind in the world. Plants that have grown for decades, some for more than a century, surround you as you walk through the garden. The garden feels settled and expansive without being overwhelming. It’s clear that this landscape was not created all at once but allowed to develop slowly. That patience is part of why it has always been my favorite place to wander.
That same feeling carries through the rest of the estate. The transitions between gardens are gradual, without sharp boundaries. The galleries and library feel equally rooted, shaped by accumulation rather than display. Art, books, and architecture exist there because someone believed they were worth preserving for the long term. Nothing feels temporary or rushed. You move through the space, aware that it has been carefully maintained over generations.
Spending a full day at the Huntington feels natural because it resists efficiency. You cannot see everything, and there is no sense that you are supposed to. Paths invite you to take detours, benches appear when you are ready to stop, and hours pass quietly without much notice. The experience does not ask anything of you beyond your attention.
Living in Atlanta now, I occasionally visit the Atlanta Botanical Garden, and the contrast helps clarify what makes the Huntington feel so distinct. The Atlanta garden is contemporary, beautifully designed, and engaging. It fits neatly into an afternoon. The Huntington feels older and broader. It does not simply fit into a schedule; rather, it replaces one entirely. One feels like a visit, and the other feels like inhabiting a place for the day.
That difference is why the Huntington remains my favorite place to return to when I am home. It is not just a garden or a museum; it is a place shaped by the belief that time matters and that care and beauty accumulate slowly. Spending a full day there does not feel indulgent; it feels appropriate. This is particularly true in a place that has consistently recognized the importance of patience.
Paige Johannesen