MorningDew Fleurs

08/05/2026

*Are you seeing this post?
I played Marshgirl the other day. Y'all know she's the version of me that brings me the most peace. The marsh entrance was filled to the brim with duckw**d in every color and it felt like I was paddling through oatmeal til I reached the open waters. Have you ever had the blessing of floating downwind beside a blooming patch of Lotus? (Nelumbo lutea) Let me tell ya, if the heavens had a scent and I'm certain they have many, you'd find that one there for sure.
I paddled a different way this time, to the left, under the fishing bridge, and out into the wild waters of what I call "the thick marsh". The water is low, the Egrets show me while they stand guard hunting for fish. I needed calm, however the winds picked up and my spirit got a little sassy towards it. "I need still, I need peace, I need simple. Please, please stop blowing." I'm not for certain the winds heard my plea, but I do know, the paddle got easier as I floated along until my fin let me know, that we were as far as we were going to get on this adventure. We were stuck. And it was beautiful.
I propped my life jacket against my wicker basket, got out my snacks of walnuts and dates, and layed down under the blue sunshine filled sky and became one with the marsh. One by one, the winged ones came closer. The swallows zigzagged through the air catching bugs, the herons, and egrets wadded close and I watched with wonder at their ability to plunge their long bills into the waters and catch tiny iridescent fish that glistened in the Soleil before they gobbled them down. There were little wonders all around me. Turles. Whirlygigs. Big fish. Little fish. Eagles. Dragonflies. Damselflies. I found the peace I was looking for.
I read my book, just a few chapters, there were so many distractions it was hard for me to focus.
Have y'all read that book? Where the crawdads Sing? I've read it more than once.
There's a part in the book, where Kya is learing how to read. Tate brought her Aldo Leopold's A sand county Almanac...Slowly, she unraveled each word of the sentence: "There are some who can live without wild things, and some who cannot."
I am one of those people~

08/03/2026

The Earth is alive with the sound of music. The birds, the crickets, the cicadas, the bees, even the worms and the quiet ones are singing, just listen. My Tree friends leaves are turned towards the Soleil, breathing a sigh of relief and releasing a little hymn of gratitude, if you listen. I am grateful. Watching the gardens and the land suffer is hard on my Spirit. No matter how much I played Rain Woman, the tiny piece of Earth under my care struggled, and I struggled right along with Her. The heavy stems of the Joe pye w**d are laying this way and that, the marigolds heads hang heavy with the weight of the skies blessings, the zinnias are reminding me that they need a bit more support, but the song, the song in the winds makes the wild abandon the most beautiful.

07/25/2026

Snippets of the Summer gardens~
My whole heart is planted here and it's bursting♡

07/22/2026

I'd love to talk about the "w**ds everyone seems to hate". So that's what I'm going to do. These "w**ds" have names. These "w**ds" have purpose. These "w**ds" are worth getting to know. The higher then all mighty mentality of the human species is missing the highest power of them all. Connection. Connection to the Earth, and to one another.

Despite being classified as an aggressive invasive noxious w**d in Ontario, Canada thistle provides key ecological benefits. It is a valuable nectar source for pollinators like honey bees and native long-tongued bees, serves as food for Painted Lady caterpillars and songbirds (like goldfinches), and its deep root system can help loosen compacted soils and mine deep nutrients.

While it causes issues for crop yield and biodiversity in agricultural areas, (farmers spray) the plant directly supports specific wildlife and beneficial insects in larger naturalized ecosystems. The primary beneficiaries include:

Pollinators: Canada thistle produces abundant, high-quality nectar, making it a critical seasonal food source for honey bees and various butterfly species.

Birds: Seed-eating songbirds like the Eastern Goldfinch, Indigo Bunting, and Pine Siskin rely heavily on the plant’s mature seed heads.
Butterflies and Insects: The foliage serves as a primary larval host for the Painted Lady butterfly, and the flowers attract a variety of predatory insects like ladybugs, which assist with pest control in nearby vegetation.

Livestock (with management): Young Canada thistle rosettes have a nutritional value comparable to alfalfa. Under careful rotational or "trained" grazing programs, sheep and goats can benefit from it as a forage source. There's a business idea! Got goats?

The Soil Ecosystem: The plant’s long taproots can pe*****te deeply into the ground, pulling subsoil nutrients to the surface and loosening dense or compacted earth.

Human Foragers: The young, tender stems (peeled) and spring leaves (spines removed or boiled) are edible and highly nutritious. Furthermore, herbalists and traditional medicine practitioners use parts of the root for its anti-inflammatory and antioxidant properties.
Thistle. That's her Name.

07/19/2026

Snippets of this little life~
I'll be opening up the wee shop next weekend! Come say hi. Walk the gardens. Breathe. Smile.
Workshop to make a sweet little rearview mirror wreaths coming soon! Who is ready to gather at the craft table with me?

07/17/2026

There is rage, sadness and anger inside of me.
I don't belong here~
I'll keep watering my wee forest.
I'll keep watering my gardens.
I'll keep planting seeds.
I'll keep creating pretty things.
I'll keep planting trees.
And I will weep sprawled out on my little piece of Earth and water Her with my tears and pray.

07/13/2026

I played marshgirl yesterday. The Waters humbled me and reminded me of how strong I am.
These adventures are usually pretty chill and the waters calm. From time to time the currant pulls this way or that but Yesterday, yesterday my arms were working overtime.
Did I want to turn back? I did. The journey to the land on the other side of the marsh is quite the paddle but a bald eagle soared over my head and I took that as a sign to keep going. I wanted a beach all to myself, where I could lay on the warm sand, and just be still.
So I kept on paddling.
I could hear the roar of the Lake. She was loud. Riotous. Fierce.
Land.
I was greeted by flocks of seagulls and wildflowers.
I learned their names. White Sweetclover. Purple Crown-vetch. Common soapwort. Chicory. Evening primrose. Smartw**d. Teasel.
I found the shell of a trap door snail, and a chunk of driftwood that looked like a ducks head. I laughed. I layed in the Sun, spread my body on the warm sand and let the waves tickle my toes.
Then it was time to go. I was excited knowing that the paddleback would be easy going since the journey their was so hard. I was wrong.
The mouth of the Lake opens to the marsh, and the currant, the waves, the force, it had me feeling scared. I don't remember a time when I felt not in control. I didn't love it. I cried. I panicked a little. I was being pushed quickly towards a fallen tree and the only way to avoid it was to paddle my way into the lily pads.
I stayed feeling hugged by them long enough for me to cry once more and to remind myself that I was strong.
Have y'all tried to paddle, with a long fin through a thick patch of anything, let alone lily pads? Humbled once more.
Comforted by the scent of the buttonbush and wild rose rambling on the banks I gathered myself, gave myself a little pep talk, and paddled, and paddled, said sorry to the lilies for hurting them, and thanked them for slowing me and my heart down.
Mother Nature is always there. Waiting with outstretched hands to hold, to love, to protect, to listen, to keep safe, and sometimes to humble.

07/12/2026

07/09/2026

We are nearing what I like to call the season of Wild. Tussling from last weeks wind and rains can be seen throughout the gardens. Old me, the gardener in me, would have rushed to stake, tie up, and rangle them in to their former state before Mother Nature decided she wanted them to grow a bit more wild and unruly. The guardian in me has been blessed with time. Time in the gardens to observe what the plants do after the storm, and what I've witnessed is this.
The tomato plants growing in a pot outside the front door were twisted and gnarled and hung low, within hours they curved their stems to rise up once again towards the Soleil. The strawflowers, not all, mostly the tall ones in the Northern gardens, fell towards neighboring plants and have decided to stay there, safe, secure from future storms, allowing their branching stems to reach up towards that Soleil.
Same with the marigolds, I was going to stake them, even after the fall, however yesterday, they looked quite happy and strong laying nestled amongst the gomphrena, once again, curving up to greet the Soleil. Zinnia, Cosmos, snapdragons, towering joe pye w**d, rudbeckia, these are some of the flowering beauties imperfectly thriving in the gardens.
The season of Wild is a time for me to sit back, observe, smile, tend a little less, love a little more and to remind myself to breathe it all in.
Everywhere the light touches is magic.