the gardening analogy only works if you defined 'gardening' in the continual-landscaping sense that the author describes, which hardly describes the familiar kind of growing-some-lettuce-in-the-back-yard gardening. The 'adaption' part of the metaphor sort of works, but makes a huge assumption about the audience's familiarity with a particular kind of long-term yard sculpting - the concept of a walk-through terraced backyard 'garden' is largely unfamiliar to most urban and suburban dwellers, for the simple reason that such things are expensive and rather hoi polloi to begin with. I've only seen one house that had one, other than the Biltmore House.
Furthermore, though our family had a garden when i was growing up, i was never very interested in it in the first place, and in the second place our garden was for edible things, not color-matched trees and flowers. And in the third place, everything died in the winter. I don't know about your code, but I don't want people to think that my code dies with the first frost and doesn't return until spring!
So in general i think it is a silly metaphor that breaks down immediately:
- code doesn't grow on its own overnight
- bugs don't creep into your code on their own
- bug-repellent spray does not work on code
- you can't eat code
- sunshine is not required to produce code; if it was more programmers would have suntans
- dumping fertilizer on code will not make it grow better [though many managers try!]
- pruned code does not grow back on its own
- code you didn't write does not spring up on its own like weeds
it is also silly for the simple reason no metaphor is required: writing software is science, engineering, and art/craft, all at the same time. Only the most green/academic of engineers believes that top-down design and implementation is all there is to 'engineering', that everything follows the plan like clockwork. To paraphrase military doctrine:
no plan of battle survives the first encounter intact. This does not remove the benefits of making the plan in the first place.