08/12/2026
The level of magic and beauty happening in a garden feels like something you cannot even fathom until you’re a part of the collaboration. Until you’re contributing to the plan and realize all of the hidden work. The network under the soil. Physical, chemical and biological interactions. Roots in cooperation, in the trading of resources, and fungal bridges feeding microbes.
On the surface, things are just as busy. This year, towhees constantly tended to my grub issues until there were none. Honey Bees, bumblebees, hummingbirds and butterflies worked to pollinate so that I could eat. The hum of bees every morning feels like such a gift... Like we’ve become the most supportive network of friends, working together to build something bigger than ourselves.
The mice, the rabbits, the squirrels, the birds? We’re all good...friends, even. We all share this space for peace, safety, and respite, and still, the garden grows. Everyone is allowed and no one oversteps and the herbs and marigolds and lavender keep the pests away. It is poetic and giving and thriving and the beauty of it has filled my creative nail holes. And so I saw and solder and build tiny rabbits out of clay and butterflies out metal and pin them all together, slip and score, and let my work be an ode to what I’ve seen and I feel it all in a way I never have before.
This space, this collaboration of soil and roots and water and insects and seeds and sun- it’s one of the most beautiful things that we can be involved in. It is history and sustenance and what makes us. But a garden is so much more than food, more than what you see or harvest, the work that you put into your garden- it also puts into you. A balm like nothing else. A therapy no other can provide.
