This week we came home from a nearly two-week trip visiting family.

It’s been almost two and a half months since we got the keys and slept in the living room at our new property.

Friends, I’m exhausted. I don’t think I realized how massive an endeavor this move would turn out to be.

In June when I wrote to my Joy Letter subscribers I said that June was my favorite month. Right now, though, I’m thinking August might be.

When’s the last time you noticed something that made you pause to look, to think, to wonder? A little moment seemingly outside of time?

The days are flying past faster and faster. I can’t believe June has already come and gone. As I mentioned a few weeks ago, I’m trying to slow down and enjoy summer’s magic and yet, time still flies.

Two weeks ago nights were in the 30s and there was danger of frost. Summer weather quickly arrived and today heat index values could reach 105.

This week has been beautiful. Bright sunshine. The bluest skies.

There’s no mistaking that autumn is here, but it’s my favorite kind of autumn. And my garden is still blooming.

I am filled with a swirl of thoughts and feelings. Maybe you are, too.

These days. They’re hard. This year has been hard. It continues to be hard.

The other day my cousin Sarah* shared a post on Instagram which was a part of a longer piece she shared on her blog. In it she wrote “stepping out of the box I decided I was going to do something to treat me.” Although her words were about the importance of doing something for yourself, what kept running through my head was idea of stepping out of the box.

I wrote that phrase in my journal this week to describe my garden, but I think it’s a good phrase to describe what I want life to be right now.

I sit in the garden and watch the robins taking turns on the nest in the birch tree. The nest is perched in a crotch of branches high above my patio. It doesn’t look very secure, but I’ve watched it hold tight when its windy. One robin swoops to the branch and the other plunges away. A few minutes later they switch. And switch again.

All week long I’ve been painting whirly birds.* That’s what I used to call maple seeds when I was young.

At this time of year when the seeds come helicoptering to the ground it’s hard not to feel a surge of childlike joy. I walk around with my eyes to the ground trying to find the most interesting ones.

Back in July I spotted some black swallowtail caterpillars on the parsley in my garden. I was thrilled to see them. I think butterflies are some of the most magical creatures in the garden.

These caterpillars were pretty small and I didn't recognize them at first. Their early phase doesn't look at all like their later ones*. 

I am constantly amazed by the magic that occurs just outside my back door. I step into the garden with a sense of childlike wonder. There's no need to conjure giant strawberries. We just need to look. 

A tiny seed that grows into a plant that will feed you all summer long. The way a flower unfurls to reveal a spiral of petals. The intricate weaving of a spider's web.