Almost all the time, I want to get my thoughts together into a presentable fashion before sharing them with others. Being misunderstood has been a lifelong aversion for me. I’ve always been very anxious, uncomfortable, and avoidant with public speaking for that reason, preferring the solitude and control writing/creating can provide. 

Hellebores are calling me outside to the healing energy of the garden this time of year. Multiple times a day I’m out there crouching down, lifting their nodding blooms to peek at the unique and spectacular detail inside each one.

After two misty spritzes—pssht pssht—into the kitchen air from the tiny amber bottle in my hand, Mike’s eyes widened with surprise as he said “Oh wow, you got it. It’s rain. And soil. Dirt. But fresh and nice. That’s. It. How did you do that!?”