Pardon me — it is actually
Your plants are pleading. You simply cannot hear them. We can.
Plant identification, year-round care, pest stewardship, and weather alerts — for the devoted gardener and the serial offender alike. No judgement. Very little, anyway.
Free to download. No subscription. Side effects may include keeping things alive.
What it offers
Rain excepted. We have tried; the heavens are uncooperative.
Photograph any plant and receive an identification down to the cultivar where the evidence allows — not merely 'apple tree', but which apple tree. Leaf, bark, fruit and habit all considered.
Year-round care notifications for every plant you own. We tell you when to prune, water, and feed — so nothing is discovered, browned and lifeless, come October.
Slugs, weeds, invasive species, disease. Identify your adversaries, track their advance, and receive removal advice — natural methods only. The slugs do not deserve a war crime.
The culprit has fled, but the evidence remains. Photograph a half-eaten leaf and we deduce the offender — slug, caterpillar, beetle or blight — from the holes, the trails, the telltale spots.
Tag each plant as freshly planted, settling in, or well established. A seedling and a veteran want entirely different things — and only one of them is permitted to be dramatic about it.
A window box has nothing in common with an acre. Tell us whether you tend a garden, a terrace, or a single balcony, and the watering, feeding and overwintering advice adapts to your soil — or your charming lack of it.
Shopping and equipment lists, composed automatically from what your garden actually contains. Each item tied to a specific plant or pest. No generic 'buy fertiliser'. The real kind.
A conversation with your personal AI gardener — shy, but endlessly knowledgeable. Ask anything: why the leaves are yellow, when to divide the irises, whether that's a friend or a foe. No question too small.
Hold up your phone to a corner and we judge the light it receives — then suggest what would actually thrive there. The feature other apps lock behind a paywall. Here, it simply comes along.
A diary for every plant. Photograph the first bud, the first bloom, the triumphant first tomato. Watch the seasons accumulate. Sentimental? Perhaps. But a garden is a slow story worth keeping.
Every plant flagged for toxicity to cats, dogs, and curious children. Know at a glance whether the new arrival is a gentle houseguest or quietly plotting against the family pet.
Push alerts when frost, drought, or heavy rain threatens your particular garden. Even when you have not opened the app in a fortnight and forgotten the garden exists.
Norwegian, Swedish, Danish, English, German, Dutch — with climate-aware advice for each country. The plants care nothing for borders. We care, a little.
Not the kind of AI that insists a cactus needs daily watering. The kind that knows a rose from a ranunculus — and has the grace to admit when it is uncertain.
For every green space
You need not own an acre to be a gardener. Whether you tend one brave geranium on a city balcony, a cluster of pots on a terrace, or a sprawling, opulent realm of green — Garden Me fits every size, and tailors its advice to the soil you actually have.
Every garden has its adversaries. Slugs that materialise after rain like small, gelatinous opportunists. Weeds with more ambition than one's houseplants. We help you identify them, track them, and prevail — by natural means alone.
And when the offender has already slipped away? Photograph the damage instead. From the holes, the slime trails, the spotted leaves, we name the most likely suspect — slug, caterpillar, beetle or blight.
Active after rain. Ravenous. Slow, yet deeply committed.
They were here first. They intend to be here last.
Small. Numerous. Famished for your hostas.
Damp weather's most persistent houseguest.
We never recommend harmful chemicals — neither for your garden nor the little rascals. Every method we suggest is natural, organic, and kind to the soil. Hand-picking, copper tape, beer traps, companion planting. A garden at war with itself is no garden at all.
And should it all become too much — there is an "I surrender" button that summons professional gardeners nearby. No shame. Only survival.
For whom
You, in all likelihood.
You hold opinions on soil pH and acquire plants before deciding where they shall live. Garden Me brings order to your magnificent chaos.
You inherited a garden and are doing your best. Garden Me tells you what things are, what they require, and whether the moment calls for panic.
You visit the cabin four times a year, and something always perishes in between. With weather alerts and care reminders — perhaps not this year.
Notices from the garden
Reviews from actual plants. And one slug.
"I requested water for six weeks. Nobody listened. Then they installed the app. Alas, too late for me."
— A fern, formerly
"I personally required no assistance. My owner, however, required a great deal."
— A very smug cactus
"Dreadful. They located me at once and relocated me humanely. Where is the sport in that?"
— A brown slug — one star
"A frost warning arrived at ten in the evening. I was covered. I survived. I owe this app my marinara."
— A tomato plant
"At last, someone who knows precisely when to prune. The audacity I had endured until now."
— A rose bush
"Would not recommend. Registered as a 'Garden Devil'. The disrespect. The accuracy."
— An anonymous weed
A universal affliction
"Green fingers." "Gröna fingrar." "Grüner Daumen." "Groene vingers."
Every language has a phrase for the gift of growing things — and a polite silence regarding the soil beneath the nails. Whether yours are green by nature or merely by enthusiasm, Garden Me makes them a little greener.
Garden Me observes the weather and sends word when attention is required — frost warnings, slug weather, drought, the first stirrings of spring.
Even if you have not opened the app since last Tuesday. Especially then.
Download Garden Me. The garden will notice. The ferns may weep with relief.