Rise and shine. I’ve always held such fondness for that sweet old phrase. As though we are all little Suns. As though we are all someone’s ...

The months of July, and August in the south—what a big disappointment they are to me.  And nature is gobbling up the garden.  Overgrown tre...

Once upon a time some years ago I promised myself I was going to surround myself in flowers—that was going to be my life.  So I created a g...

Last week: We're sitting on the hot days of summer.   Summer is an umbrella over our heads, and although every bird station have be...

I am the little pebble that doesn't fit in—the wings, when all we see are feet.  And the garden is still the place my heart wants to li...