The Garden That Teaches
A Slope That Speaks
“We need the tonic of wildness.”
Henry David Thoreau
We have a slope right off the back of the Loft. It doesn’t ask for attention—yet it draws you into its picturesque presence, making you feel as though you are part of nature’s painting.
Our visual connection to it is either ground level or nearly twelve feet above the ground when we are perched on the deck attached to the backside of the Loft. From both places, we feel less like observers and more like participants in the view.
A Sensory Symphony
“The clearest way into the Universe is through a forest wilderness.”
John Muir
Our proximity to the trees and the birds here allows us to feel as though we are one with them. It is a whole sensory experience.
Shifting light, shade, and glimmers of sun dance as the day goes on. Birds, wind chimes, sunflower spinners, and the buzz of hummingbirds in full battle mode this time of year.
Damp earth from morning dew, herbs, and flowers—all accompanied by the freshness of morning coffee to start the day.
The weight of stillness is as real as a breeze upon the skin. The air itself feels like a soft pause button.
Objects That Teach
“Those who contemplate the beauty of the earth find reserves of strength that will endure as long as life lasts.”
Rachel Carson
There is a Buddha out there with a silence that carries like calm water—a cairn reminding me of balance, intention, and the patience to take all of this in.
Wind spinners and garden globes—fragments of joy and the playfulness of light. Birdbaths, mirrors for the sky, and a purposeful addition for so many of our garden neighbors.
Obelisks and terra cotta planters that add structure to our little artificial wilderness. More than just ornaments—they are teachers.
Neighbors and Guardians
“In wildness is the preservation of the world.”
Henry David Thoreau
Chipmunks, birds, squirrels, and rabbits—all of them, the best storytellers to have around. Hawks and the occasional hoot from an owl—guardians that add punctuation to the day.
And with all the chatter and activity they bring to this space, they still seem to bow to the garden’s hush.
The Garden Within
“Attention is the beginning of devotion.”
Mary Oliver
Presence appears here. There is no need to create it. Stillness morphs into a fullness of noticing. The garden has become less about what is growing and more about what it awakens inside of you.
We don’t come here to escape anymore—we come here to arrive.
Closing Note
When the seeds have been planted and the garden comes to life, it doesn’t ask for more than just attention. And sometimes, that’s all life needs.
Talk soon…
G