Last week I wrote about committing to self-care during the month of September. As I sat down to write to you today with the intention of expanding on the idea, it seemed so silly.

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.