The heritage trees Robertson planted are still alive, protected under the Queenstown Lakes District Council's Operative District Plan. The list reads like a Victorian arboretum catalog: Black Oak, Red Oak, Grand Fir, Algerian Fir, Monkey Puzzle, Western Hemlock, and a Wellingtonia, the giant sequoia that Californians know as the Sierra redwood. Douglas firs, planted in profusion by early settlers who admired their fast growth and wind resistance, now form a protective forest around much of the gardens, their canopy filtering the light into green cathedral columns. The collection includes temperate species from five continents, assembled not by a botanical institution but by ordinary settlers homesick for the trees of wherever they came from. A dedicated New Zealand native area, established in the early 1900s, offers a counterpoint, showcasing the flora that was here before the gold miners arrived.

Two stone memorials stand in the gardens, each anchoring a different chapter of New Zealand history. The Scott Memorial, unveiled in 1913, honours Robert Falcon Scott and the men who perished during the ill-fated Antarctic expedition of 1912. Queenstown may seem an unlikely place for an Antarctic memorial, but the town sits at 45 degrees south, closer to the ice than most of the world, and Scott's expedition had strong New Zealand connections. The Rees Memorial, erected in 1978 by the Queenstown and District Historical Society, commemorates William Gilbert Rees, who arrived at the shores of Lake Wakatipu in 1860 and established the pastoral run that would become Queenstown. Between them, these two memorials bookend the story of the town: Rees represents the arrival that started everything, and Scott represents the outward reach of a young nation still defining its relationship with the vast, cold south.

The gardens occupy a peninsula jutting into the Frankton Arm of Lake Wakatipu, giving them water views on three sides and mountain views on every horizon. This geography makes them feel larger and more remote than their actual footprint suggests. Walking trails loop through the trees with views of The Remarkables, Ben Lomond, and Queenstown's waterfront. But the gardens are not merely contemplative. Tennis courts and lawn bowling greens have operated here for decades. A skatepark and BMX track occupy the peninsula's eastern edge. New Zealand's first permanently marked disc golf course winds through the trees, its baskets catching Frisbees among the Douglas firs. In winter, the gardens host the LUMA Southern Lights Festival, a four-day light art installation that transforms the trees into glowing sculptures. On Saturday mornings, the Queenstown Parkrun draws runners along the lakefront paths. The gardens manage to be both a peaceful botanical retreat and an active recreational hub, a balance that reflects Queenstown itself.

Wildlife finds refuge on the peninsula. New Zealand scaup and paradise shelducks paddle in the central pond, while bellbirds and tui call from the native plantings. Australasian crested grebes, an uncommon species, breed on the lake edges nearby. Fantails dart through the understory, following walkers to catch the insects their footsteps disturb. Scattered among the paths are sculptures and artworks that have accumulated over the decades: a kuri sculpture by Richard Wells, an abstract piece called Auxilium by Andrew Rogers, Trevor Askin's The Good Book, and several unnamed wooden carvings that have weathered into the landscape. A silver fern sculpture marks the Park Street entrance. None of these works dominates the gardens. They sit among the trees as discoveries, things to stumble upon while looking for something else, which is precisely how the best botanical gardens work.