This sentence resonates: “Not because I stopped loving them, but because they slowly began to ask more of me than I could give” defines a feeling I’ve been healing from this past year. Thank you. And I am so glad you have your garden.
Thank you so much. It means a lot to know that sentence resonated with you. I'm sorry you've had a difficult year, and I hope your own healing continues. I'm very grateful for the garden too 💚
I love this. I can no longer garden or walk in the bush. But thank goodness my family can and I am able to watch the trees and birds and wildlife and still feel that deep peace that the natural world brings us.
Thank you for sharing this with me. Reading your words reminded me why I wanted to write the essay. Our relationship with nature may change, but it doesn't have to disappear. I'm so glad you still have the trees, the birds and the wildlife to bring you that peace 💚
Your words have really hit home. the reality is that life changes and we need to find ways to adapt to what we have now. As a lover of long walks in the forest I know how hard it would be not to have them, so having reminders of the things you love closer to you Im sure means the world. sending love ❤️
Thank you so much - I think that's exactly it. We can't always change what life asks of us, but sometimes we can find new ways to stay close to the things that make us feel most like ourselves 💚
I feel this so much. I have to give up surfing for the time being due to my burnout and current health. I guess writing has been my snowdrop replacement for now. But I still really grieve the loss of a resilient body. Lovely article.
Thank you so much for sharing this. I really felt the part about grieving the loss of a resilient body. I'm sorry you're carrying that too. And I love that writing has become one of your snowdrops for now (it’s one of mine too). I hope the sea is waiting for you whenever you're ready to return to it 💚
I'm so happy the snowdrops were there for you and that your joy in finding them helped you overcome the bad stuff in your life. I can tell you're a "glass half full" person; I am, too! I think it's hereditary - my mom was like that - so I hope you've passed the quality on to your son.
Thank you so much - that’s such a lovely thought. I think life has taught me to notice the things that still bring joy, even when they look different from before. And I hope I've passed a little of that on to my children and granddaughter too 💚
Missing the snowdrops hits so deep - One year my sister and I went down into the ravine behind our house (we used to venture down there all the time as kids, but hadn't for a long time). But what we saw was a sea of purple and white flowers! I wish I knew their name. Every year since my goal has been to go back in their limited blooming time to see them, and I just haven't been able to. It's hard when I personally stopped subscribing to 'time' a long time ago, but the rest of the world continues on with it. I'm so glad you were able to find your snowdrops again 🩵
Thank you so much for sharing this. Your description of that sea of flowers is beautiful. I wondered if they might have been crocuses, but whatever they were, it sounds as though they became your own snowdrops. I hope one day you find yourself amongst them again 💚
I know this feeling in my body. I left the city for the south of Chile, and slowly the wild stopped being somewhere I went and became somewhere I am: the birds at the window, the trees, the rain closing the house around us like a held breath.
Your snowdrops waiting by the stream, your pumpkins planted where you could sit beside them, nature meeting you exactly where you are. It's one of the most beautiful ways I know to build a life. Thank you so much for sharing your world.
Thank you so much. I absolutely love your words: ‘the wild stopped being somewhere I went and became somewhere I am.’ What a beautiful way of describing it. Thank you for sharing your world with me too 💚
Since reading the post, I was trying to remember something, because it rang a bell. And now I remember. The book " Children at Green Meadows" by Enid Blyton begins and ends with snowdrops. Francis and his mother rang the snowdrop's bell for luck, and better days followed. I am sincerely hoping that your snowdrops will bring you better days too.
Thank you for taking me back to one of the beloved books, and by extension , to childhood.
What a lovely memory! I didn't know about the snowdrops in Children at Green Meadows, and I love that you've shared that little piece of literary history with me. Thank you too for your lovely wishes 💚
Such a beautiful sentiment. I somewhat did it backwards, but it worked out the same way.
We decided to downsize years ago. It took almost 4 years (with an interruption of a family death, burial, estate work, etc) to find our new place.
Shortly after listing our house, I got sick. As I have healed, had surgeries, recovered, healed more-I have been so grateful for the beautiful garden the former owner planted & maintained.
Many, many days I have been grateful to watch the birds & bunnies, deer & turkeys run through our garden. The blossoming of new plants, the representation of growth has been sustaining & life affirming for me!
Enjoy your lovely snowdrops & all the new life your cottage offers you. 🩷
Thank you so much for sharing your story. I love that you said you did it ‘backwards’ because I think that's part of the beauty of it - the timing may be different, but the comfort and connection are the same. I'm so glad your garden found you when you needed it, and I hope it continues to bring you peace and joy 💚
“Sometimes adaptation isn't about letting go of what matters. It's about finding a different way to stay close to it.”
Wow, what a profound and gorgeous piece of writing! Thank you so much for sharing this. I have autism and ADHD so often I struggle to stay focused when I’m reading something, but your piece caught my attention and kept my attention the entire time. I am so captivated by your writing, and I would love to see it on display at a book event, and cozy on people’s “most read” shelves someday. You are enormously talented and thank you so much for sharing this gorgeous piece of writing.❤️
Thank you so much! Your comment genuinely means the world to me. Knowing the piece held your attention, especially when reading can be difficult, is an incredible compliment. Thank you for taking the time to read it, and for such generous encouragement 💚
This sentence resonates: “Not because I stopped loving them, but because they slowly began to ask more of me than I could give” defines a feeling I’ve been healing from this past year. Thank you. And I am so glad you have your garden.
Thank you so much. It means a lot to know that sentence resonated with you. I'm sorry you've had a difficult year, and I hope your own healing continues. I'm very grateful for the garden too 💚
I love this. I can no longer garden or walk in the bush. But thank goodness my family can and I am able to watch the trees and birds and wildlife and still feel that deep peace that the natural world brings us.
Thank you for sharing this with me. Reading your words reminded me why I wanted to write the essay. Our relationship with nature may change, but it doesn't have to disappear. I'm so glad you still have the trees, the birds and the wildlife to bring you that peace 💚
Your words have really hit home. the reality is that life changes and we need to find ways to adapt to what we have now. As a lover of long walks in the forest I know how hard it would be not to have them, so having reminders of the things you love closer to you Im sure means the world. sending love ❤️
Thank you so much - I think that's exactly it. We can't always change what life asks of us, but sometimes we can find new ways to stay close to the things that make us feel most like ourselves 💚
Such lovely writing. I chose my apartment because of the trees surrounding it. Let's keep connected.
I love that. 🌳 It sounds as though the trees were your snowdrops. Thank you - and I'd love to stay connected too 💚
I feel this so much. I have to give up surfing for the time being due to my burnout and current health. I guess writing has been my snowdrop replacement for now. But I still really grieve the loss of a resilient body. Lovely article.
Thank you so much for sharing this. I really felt the part about grieving the loss of a resilient body. I'm sorry you're carrying that too. And I love that writing has become one of your snowdrops for now (it’s one of mine too). I hope the sea is waiting for you whenever you're ready to return to it 💚
I'm so happy the snowdrops were there for you and that your joy in finding them helped you overcome the bad stuff in your life. I can tell you're a "glass half full" person; I am, too! I think it's hereditary - my mom was like that - so I hope you've passed the quality on to your son.
Thank you so much - that’s such a lovely thought. I think life has taught me to notice the things that still bring joy, even when they look different from before. And I hope I've passed a little of that on to my children and granddaughter too 💚
🩵
💚
Missing the snowdrops hits so deep - One year my sister and I went down into the ravine behind our house (we used to venture down there all the time as kids, but hadn't for a long time). But what we saw was a sea of purple and white flowers! I wish I knew their name. Every year since my goal has been to go back in their limited blooming time to see them, and I just haven't been able to. It's hard when I personally stopped subscribing to 'time' a long time ago, but the rest of the world continues on with it. I'm so glad you were able to find your snowdrops again 🩵
Thank you so much for sharing this. Your description of that sea of flowers is beautiful. I wondered if they might have been crocuses, but whatever they were, it sounds as though they became your own snowdrops. I hope one day you find yourself amongst them again 💚
I just looked up crocuses and you’re right! Thank you I never would have figured out their name haha. And yes I hope so too 💚
I know this feeling in my body. I left the city for the south of Chile, and slowly the wild stopped being somewhere I went and became somewhere I am: the birds at the window, the trees, the rain closing the house around us like a held breath.
Your snowdrops waiting by the stream, your pumpkins planted where you could sit beside them, nature meeting you exactly where you are. It's one of the most beautiful ways I know to build a life. Thank you so much for sharing your world.
Thank you so much. I absolutely love your words: ‘the wild stopped being somewhere I went and became somewhere I am.’ What a beautiful way of describing it. Thank you for sharing your world with me too 💚
feelings so beautifully summarized - thank you
Thank you so much - so glad it resonated 💚
Since reading the post, I was trying to remember something, because it rang a bell. And now I remember. The book " Children at Green Meadows" by Enid Blyton begins and ends with snowdrops. Francis and his mother rang the snowdrop's bell for luck, and better days followed. I am sincerely hoping that your snowdrops will bring you better days too.
Thank you for taking me back to one of the beloved books, and by extension , to childhood.
What a lovely memory! I didn't know about the snowdrops in Children at Green Meadows, and I love that you've shared that little piece of literary history with me. Thank you too for your lovely wishes 💚
Such a beautiful sentiment. I somewhat did it backwards, but it worked out the same way.
We decided to downsize years ago. It took almost 4 years (with an interruption of a family death, burial, estate work, etc) to find our new place.
Shortly after listing our house, I got sick. As I have healed, had surgeries, recovered, healed more-I have been so grateful for the beautiful garden the former owner planted & maintained.
Many, many days I have been grateful to watch the birds & bunnies, deer & turkeys run through our garden. The blossoming of new plants, the representation of growth has been sustaining & life affirming for me!
Enjoy your lovely snowdrops & all the new life your cottage offers you. 🩷
Thank you so much for sharing your story. I love that you said you did it ‘backwards’ because I think that's part of the beauty of it - the timing may be different, but the comfort and connection are the same. I'm so glad your garden found you when you needed it, and I hope it continues to bring you peace and joy 💚
Thank you!
🩷
“Sometimes adaptation isn't about letting go of what matters. It's about finding a different way to stay close to it.”
Wow, what a profound and gorgeous piece of writing! Thank you so much for sharing this. I have autism and ADHD so often I struggle to stay focused when I’m reading something, but your piece caught my attention and kept my attention the entire time. I am so captivated by your writing, and I would love to see it on display at a book event, and cozy on people’s “most read” shelves someday. You are enormously talented and thank you so much for sharing this gorgeous piece of writing.❤️
Thank you so much! Your comment genuinely means the world to me. Knowing the piece held your attention, especially when reading can be difficult, is an incredible compliment. Thank you for taking the time to read it, and for such generous encouragement 💚