đź““One of my most valuable gardening tools doesn’t live in the shed—it lives on my desk. A journal. I started writing down weather notes almost by accident. One year, I scribbled “frost came early—lost basil overnight” in the margin of a notebook. The next spring, I noted “late cold snap—covered tomatoes just in time.” Over…
🚶‍♀️ Some mornings, before the day’s noise begins, I step into the garden. I don’t go with a list or a tool in hand. I simply walk. The air is cool, the light soft, and the plants greet me in their own quiet way. These walks have become one of my deepest forms of prayer….
A quiet invitation to notice, name, and nurture what endured 🌿 Opening Reflection: What Remains Is Worth Remembering By the time summer begins to wane, your garden tells the truth. Some things didn’t make it—burned out, bug-bitten, bolted too fast. But some things did survive. Some things kept growing, quietly and faithfully, even under scorching…
How a Few Quiet Minutes Can Transform Your Garden—and Your Soul Every summer morning, before the heat rises and the day gets away from me, I try to walk the garden slowly, coffee in hand, notebook nearby. This isn’t just about checking off tasks—it’s about tuning in. Observation is where intuitive gardening begins. It’s the…
