I stumbled onto Maggie Appleton’s website at 2 AM, chasing a reference about visual programming. What I found wasn’t a blog. It wasn’t a portfolio. It was something I didn’t have words for at the time: a digital garden.
Her site felt alive. Ideas at different stages of growth—some fully formed essays, others fragmentary notes marked “budding.” Links clustered by themes, not dates. Connections between concepts made visible. You could wander through her thinking the way you’d explore an actual garden, discovering unexpected connections around every corner.
I spent an hour clicking through, not because I was procrastinating, but because her garden invited exploration. No pressure to read chronologically. No anxiety about missing the “latest” post. Just ideas, growing in public, interconnected and evolving.
That night, I realized something: the internet had taught us the wrong metaphor.
We’ve been trained to think in streams—feeds that flow past, content that expires, conversations that vanish. Social media conditioned us to publish, post, and move on. But a growing number of people are rejecting this model for something older and wiser: gardens.
And at the heart of many digital gardens sits something deceptively simple: curated collections of links, tended over time, that map how someone thinks.
What Exactly Is a Link Garden?#
A link garden is a personally curated collection of resources—articles, tools, references, ideas—organized not by date but by relationship. It’s part bookmark collection, part knowledge map, part intellectual autobiography.
Unlike a blog that flows chronologically or a social feed that disappears, a link garden is spatial and evergreen. Links are grouped by themes, connected by associations, and revisited over time. Some sections are mature and comprehensive. Others are newly planted, just beginning to take shape.
The term builds on the concept of digital gardening, which web developer Tom Critchlow and others have explored extensively. But where traditional digital gardens focus on writing and note-taking, link gardens specifically embrace the hyperlink as the fundamental unit.
Think of it this way:
- A blog is a stream: posts flow by in reverse chronological order
- A wiki is a filing cabinet: structured, comprehensive, complete
- A link garden is an ecosystem: organic, interconnected, always growing
Link gardens reject the anxiety of the feed. There’s no “falling behind” because there’s no linear progression. You tend your garden at your own pace. Some sections flourish. Others lie dormant until you’re ready to cultivate them.
Why Link Gardens Are Having a Moment#
The link garden movement isn’t random. It’s a response to how broken our relationship with online information has become.
We’re Drowning in Streams#
Social media conditioned us to consume content in endless feeds. Twitter, Instagram, TikTok—they’re all variations on the same theme: ephemeral content, infinite scroll, algorithmically sorted by engagement rather than meaning.
Research on information overload shows this model creates anxiety and reduces comprehension. We’re exposed to more information than ever but retain less. The content flows past too quickly to process, too chaotically to synthesize.
Link gardens offer the opposite experience. Instead of fighting to keep up with a feed, you cultivate a space at your own pace. Resources stay put. You can revisit and reflect. There’s no FOMO because nothing expires.
We’ve Lost Places for Public Thinking#
The early web had GeoCities pages, blogrolls, and webrings—personal spaces where people shared what they found interesting without performing for engagement metrics. Then social media centralized everything. Our thinking moved to platforms designed for virality, not reflection.
Digital gardens—and specifically link gardens—reclaim this spirit. They’re public but not performative. They grow slowly, messily, honestly. There’s no pressure to be comprehensive or polished. You share what you’re exploring as you explore it.
This resonates especially with knowledge workers tired of personal branding theater. A link garden says: “Here’s what I’m learning, thinking about, finding valuable.” It’s an invitation to explore, not a pitch.
We Need Better Ways to Connect Ideas#
The biggest limitation of traditional bookmarks and saved links is isolation. Each link sits alone, disconnected from context and related ideas. You save an article about habit formation, another about productivity systems, a third about behavioral psychology—but your tools don’t help you see they’re all exploring the same underlying patterns.
Link gardens make connections visible. By grouping links thematically, adding contextual notes, and creating pathways between related resources, you build a web of understanding. Your collection becomes more valuable than any individual link because it reveals relationships.
This mirrors how your brain actually works. Memory isn’t isolated files—it’s associative networks. Link gardens externalize this structure.
We Want to Learn in Public#
The “learning in public” movement, popularized by Shawn Wang and others, encourages sharing your learning journey openly. The idea is simple: by teaching what you’re learning, you learn better. By documenting your process, you create value for others on similar paths.
Link gardens are perfect for this. They let you share resources as you discover them, cluster them as patterns emerge, and refine your understanding over time. Your garden becomes both a learning tool and a teaching resource.
And unlike social media posts that vanish into the archive, your link garden grows more valuable over time. Each new addition connects to existing ideas. Patterns strengthen. Your garden becomes a map of your intellectual territory.
What Makes a Good Link Garden Different from Bookmarks#
Here’s where most people get confused: “Isn’t this just fancy bookmarks?”
No. The difference is fundamental.
Bookmarks are storage. You save something, file it away, and hope you remember it exists. The value is in retrieval—finding the specific link when you need it.
Link gardens are thinking spaces. You save something, place it in relation to other ideas, and let patterns emerge. The value is in synthesis—understanding how ideas connect.
Good link gardens have a few key characteristics:
Contextual notes. Not just the link, but why it matters. What caught your attention? How does it connect to your thinking? What questions does it raise?
Thematic organization. Links grouped by idea, not by when you saved them. Your “design systems” section exists alongside your “API architecture” section, even though you’re exploring both simultaneously.
Visible connections. Links that reference each other. Themes that overlap. You might tag a resource under both “writing” and “teaching” because it informs both practices.
Different growth stages. Some sections are mature with dozens of carefully curated resources. Others are seedlings—just a few links you’re beginning to explore. Both states are visible and valid.
Personal voice. The organization reflects how you think, not some universal taxonomy. Quirky categories are fine. Overlapping themes are expected. Your garden maps your mind.
How to Start Your Own Link Garden#
Building a link garden doesn’t require technical expertise or elaborate tools. It requires intention—deciding to curate resources deliberately rather than hoarding them desperately.
Choose Your Foundation#
You need somewhere to plant your garden. The options range from simple to sophisticated:
Personal websites with hand-coded HTML work beautifully if you enjoy that level of control. But they’re high friction for most people.
Note-taking tools like Notion or Obsidian can host link gardens, especially if you already live in those systems. The downside is they’re optimized for writing, not link capture.
Purpose-built link managers like stashed.in offer the sweet spot: designed specifically for collecting and organizing links, with features that support garden-like growth.
The key is choosing something that makes saving links effortless. If capture has friction, your garden won’t grow. You’ll fall back to browser bookmarks or tab hoarding.
Start with Seeds, Not Trees#
Don’t try to build a comprehensive garden from day one. Start small:
Pick two or three topics you’re genuinely exploring right now. Maybe it’s “remote work practices,” “Svelte tutorials,” and “urban planning.” Create spaces for each.
Save 5-10 links per topic—resources you’ve already found valuable. Add a sentence about why each matters. Don’t overthink this. You’re planting seeds, not writing essays.
That’s it. You now have a link garden. It’s tiny, but it’s alive.
Let Organic Growth Guide Structure#
Here’s the counterintuitive part: don’t plan your garden’s structure upfront. Let it emerge.
As you continue saving links to your initial topics, you’ll notice patterns. Some themes attract more resources than others. New connections appear between seemingly unrelated ideas. Subtopics emerge that deserve their own spaces.
This is when you add new sections, create connections, and let your garden sprawl. The structure develops from actual use, not theoretical planning.
Maybe you started with “remote work,” but after three months you’ve accumulated enough links about “async communication” specifically that it deserves its own section. Split it off. Create the path. Let it grow.
Add Context Generously#
This is what transforms a link collection into a garden: your thinking around the links.
When you save something, ask yourself:
- Why did this catch my attention?
- What problem does it solve or question does it raise?
- How does it connect to other things I’m exploring?
A single sentence is enough. Sometimes just a tag or two. But this context is what makes your garden uniquely yours.
Over time, these notes compound. You start seeing meta-patterns—not just in the resources you collect, but in your own thinking about them.
Tend Regularly, Not Constantly#
Gardens need tending, but not daily weeding. Find a sustainable rhythm.
Maybe you spend 15 minutes each Sunday reviewing what you saved that week. You add a few notes. Connect some dots. Maybe prune a link or two that no longer resonates.
Or maybe you tend your garden when you’re starting new projects. You revisit your “design systems” section before a redesign. You explore your “API patterns” area when architecting a new service.
The rhythm matters less than the consistency. A garden tended monthly is infinitely more valuable than an abandoned garden that was perfect for a week.
Building Your Link Garden on Stashed.in#
This is where I should mention: stashed.in was built for exactly this kind of cultivation.
When we designed stashed.in, we weren’t thinking about bookmark management in the traditional sense. We were thinking about how people actually work with knowledge online—collecting, connecting, revisiting, and growing understanding over time.
Here’s how stashed.in makes link gardening effortless:
Frictionless capture. The browser extension lets you save any page in one click. Add a quick note, tag it, and move on. No forms to fill. No workflow to interrupt. Your garden grows naturally as you browse.
Flexible organization. Collections work like garden beds—thematic groupings that can overlap and evolve. A link can live in multiple collections. Tags add another layer of connection. The system adapts to your thinking rather than forcing hierarchies.
Search that works. As your garden grows, search becomes crucial. Stashed.in searches everything—titles, URLs, your notes, even tags. Finding that resource about CSS grid from six months ago takes seconds, not detective work.
Private by default, public when ready. Your link garden can be entirely private while you’re cultivating it. When you’re ready to share specific collections publicly, you control exactly what’s visible. No pressure to curate everything for an audience.
Built for revisiting. Visual previews help you recognize pages at a glance. Related links surface connections. Your garden becomes a place you actually want to browse, not just a database you search desperately.
The workflow is simple:
- Install the browser extension
- Create collections for topics you’re exploring
- Save links as you encounter them (one click, add a note if you want)
- Let patterns emerge naturally
- Tend periodically—add connections, refine notes, discover themes
No complicated setup. No workflow engineering. Just natural growth.
What Your Link Garden Becomes Over Time#
Here’s what happens when you cultivate a link garden for months or years:
It becomes a knowledge base. When someone asks “what should I read about X?”, you have an answer. Not just one article, but a curated path through the topic. Your garden is your syllabus.
It reveals your intellectual journey. Looking back through your garden shows how your thinking evolved. Topics that fascinated you two years ago. Connections you made. Questions you pursued. It’s an archaeology of your curiosity.
It compounds in value. Every new link connects to existing ones. Your garden becomes denser, richer, more interconnected. The whole becomes genuinely greater than the sum of its parts.
It attracts kindred spirits. When you share your garden (or parts of it), you find people exploring similar territories. Conversations start. Collaborations emerge. Your garden becomes a meeting place.
It clarifies your thinking. The act of organizing resources forces you to articulate connections. Why do these belong together? How does this relate to that? Your garden becomes a thinking tool, not just a reference.
It becomes part of your work. When you’re writing, designing, or building, you mine your garden for resources. That example you saved months ago. The article that articulated exactly what you’re now experiencing. Your garden feeds your creation.
The Philosophy Behind Link Gardens#
At their best, link gardens embody a different relationship with online information.
They reject the artificial scarcity of “best of” lists. Your garden can hold contradictory resources, multiple perspectives, incomplete threads. It’s allowed to be complex because thinking is complex.
They embrace the provisional nature of knowledge. A link garden isn’t meant to be definitive. It’s meant to be honest about what you’ve found valuable so far, while remaining open to refinement.
They resist the pressure to have strong opinions immediately. You can hold a space for exploration without declaring conclusions. Your “exploring blockchain” section isn’t a thesis—it’s a question you’re living with.
They make maintenance visible. Unlike blogs where you edit posts secretly or social feeds where you delete embarrassing takes, gardens show growth. That note from two years ago that now seems naive? It stays, maybe with a new note reflecting what you’ve learned since.
They value usefulness over viral potential. A resource that helps one person deeply is more valuable than a hot take that gets likes. Gardens optimize for lasting value, not momentary attention.
Start Planting Today#
You don’t need to become a digital gardening philosopher to start a link garden. You just need to start saving links with intention.
Pick one topic you’re genuinely curious about right now. Create a space for it—a collection, a note, whatever fits your tool. Over the next week, save everything interesting you find about it. Add a sentence or two about why.
That’s your first garden bed.
Maybe it grows into something extensive. Maybe it stays small and personal. Maybe you add more topics over time. Maybe this one area becomes so rich it splits into subtopics.
All of this is fine. Gardens grow how they grow.
The point isn’t to create a perfect resource. It’s to externalize your thinking, make connections visible, and build something that compounds over time. To have a place on the internet that’s yours, that grows at your pace, that reflects how you actually think.
The internet is noisy enough. We don’t need more content fired into the void. We need more gardens—quiet spaces where ideas can grow slowly, connections can form naturally, and thinking can happen at human speed.
Your link garden is waiting. Start planting.
