Nature Notice

The other night, a fox darted across the street. Quick. Sly. A little thing. Bright red, with a beautiful, fluffy tail. And just like that… it was gone. Back into the night. Back toward the trees. Back into the world it belongs to. There was something about that brief moment that stayed with me. How something so beautiful could appear so suddenly, move so swiftly, and disappear before you had much time to take it all in. The fox didn't stop to announce itself. It didn't ask t

There is something easy to overlook about the earth beneath our feet. It’s always there. We walk across it without thinking about it. We build on it. Grow food in it. Plant trees in it. Dig into it. Return things to it. And yet the earth rarely demands our attention. It simply holds us. A seed falls into soil and the earth gives it somewhere to begin. Rain sinks into the ground. Roots reach downward. Worms, fungi, insects, microorganisms, and countless unseen processes work b

Metal is an interesting teacher. It comes from the earth. But through heat, pressure, time, and human hands, it can become something entirely different. A tool. A bridge. A building. A piece of art. A blade. A vehicle. Something that protects. Something that carries. Something that connects. Metal can be incredibly strong. But here’s something we sometimes forget: Strength doesn’t always mean refusing to bend. Put enough pressure on metal and it can bend. Heat it enough and i

What an interesting concept. We are taught from the time we’re young that we must be on time. On time for school. On time for work. On time for appointments. On time for life. We measure everything. Twenty-four hours in a day. Sixty minutes in an hour. Sixty seconds in a minute. We put our lives into boxes of years. Boxes of months. Boxes of days. Hours. Minutes. And then we start putting ourselves into those boxes, too. You should have accomplished this by this age. You shou

There is something fascinating about the wind. You can’t see it. But you know when it’s there. A quiet breeze can barely be noticed as it moves through the trees, gently lifting leaves and brushing across your skin. And then, in another moment, that same air can become as ferocious as a lion. It can roar through the trees, bend branches, tear things apart, and remind us just how powerful something invisible can be. Air fuels fire. It carries water. It gives plants the carbon

This week’s teacher is fire. Fire is one of those forces we often forget to respect because of how much it gives us. It warms us. It cooks our food. It gives us light when everything around us is dark. It can create a gathering place, a sense of safety, a place to come together. And yet… The same fire that can keep us warm can burn us. The same fire that can illuminate a path can destroy an entire landscape. Fire isn’t the problem. Our relationship with fire determines how we

This week, let’s notice water. Really notice it. Watch the way it moves. Water flows. It changes shape. It moves around obstacles instead of always trying to move through them. It can be a quiet trickle that immediately begins to settle something inside you. Or it can become a rushing river, powerful enough to move anything standing in its way. And that’s the fascinating thing about water… It doesn’t ask permission to flow. It just does. A stream doesn’t stop and wonder if it

This week, my teacher was an armadillo. And honestly… this one hit a little closer to home. 😂 An armadillo is such an interesting little creature. Soft and vulnerable underneath… Covered in armor on the outside. And when it gets scared? It doesn’t stick around to prove how tough it is. It protects itself. It curls up. It creates distance. It waits. And sometimes it simply rolls away. The funny thing is, underneath all that armor is still a living, sensitive little creature.

Nature Notice This week, I came across two vultures. Back to back. Both were doing exactly the same thing: Eating a dead squirrel from the side of the road. And I’ll be honest… Vultures look mean. 😂 They have that stare. That bald head. That posture. And they absolutely do not seem concerned about whether you’re watching them. They don’t care. They’re going to eat. They’re going to do their job. And they’re going to carry on with their day. But the more I thought about it, t

Nature Notice Have you ever really stopped to listen to the bees? That steady bzzzzzzzz… There is something almost hypnotic about it. And the more I learn about bees, the more amazed I become by just how much these tiny creatures give back to the world. Did you know there are places where people can actually sit inside specially designed hive huts or even sleep near the hives? Part of the experience is simply being surrounded by the sound and vibration of thousands of bees. T

Nature Notice This week, nature introduced me to some of the smallest, yet most confident, teachers in my yard… The chipmunks. Every morning they chatter. They call and talk to one another. They announce when they’ve found food. They warn each other when something changes. Sometimes they simply seem to enjoy being heard. If I step too close, they’re quick to let me know I’ve entered their space. They don’t apologize for using their voices. They don’t wonder if they’re being t

Nature Notice Man… The trees have been really loud today. Can you hear them? The gentle crackling of the bark. The rustling of the leaves. The wind weaving its way through every branch… Traveling down the trunk… All the way to the roots, deep within the earth. It’s a marvelous thing to witness. The more time I spend outside, the more I’m reminded that nature is alive. Everything has a rhythm. Everything has a frequency. Everything has its own way of communicating. The trees n

Nature Notice This week’s teachers weren’t found in a book… They were a mother doe and her fawn. Yesterday, I had the privilege of watching them together. The doe moved quietly through the woods, grazing, watching, and caring for her surroundings. The fawn stayed exactly where its mother had left it. It didn’t wander. It didn’t cry out. It didn’t anxiously follow her every move. It simply waited. Patiently. Quietly. Trusting that she would return. As I stood there watching, I

Yesterday, I found myself standing quietly in my yard, watching a single ant. At first, I wasn’t sure what had captured my attention. Then I realized it was carrying a fly—one many times larger than itself. I watched in amazement as this tiny creature pulled, lifted, and maneuvered its burden across the ground. The size difference seemed almost impossible. I found myself wondering how something so small could carry something so heavy. Then something unexpected happened. The a