A handmade hat, Ali’s fabric pumpkins, and a little bird dressed for the occasion. My Halloween decorations come with happy memories and a few hot glue burns. Looking at my Halloween decorations, I see the people who helped bring them together. My friend Cheri’s hat workshop, my daughter Ali’s creativity, and a few encounters with a hot glue gun have all contributed to this little gathering. That fabulous witch’s hat came with a few burns. Mine. My friend Cheri held a hat wor

The last tree here to turn and lose its leaves gives us a magnificent farewell to the season. Our maple takes its time. It’s the very last tree here to turn and lose its leaves, and when its colors finally arrive, the view outside our door is glorious. This familiar tree gives me another way to recognize the abundance of the season. Fall’s Everyday Abundance I didn’t know there was a fall harvest of artichokes. But last week, while my sister Suzi was visiting from Alabama, we

My neighbor’s persimmons are ripening for bread. Taffy has made himself comfortable beside them. Taffy seems to think these persimmons make excellent company. I’m imagining the bread they’ll become. My neighbor Lillian gave me three enormous ones from her own abundance, and before long, I’ll be sharing that generosity again, one loaf at a time. Fall’s Everyday Abundance I didn’t know there was a fall harvest of artichokes. But last week, while my sister Suzi was visiting from

Sixty-nine cents apiece! First I bought six. Then I went back for ten more. There are discoveries you simply have to tell somebody about. Finding a great big pile of beautiful artichokes - in October - for 69 cents apiece was one of them. Another shopper came down the aisle just as I was choosing mine, and she was every bit as delighted as I was. Fall’s Everyday Abundance I didn’t know there was a fall harvest of artichokes. But last week, while my sister Suzi was visiting fr

After 24 years, our little bird feeder has welcomed juncos, jays, pigeons, squirrels and even a fox. But one morning a wild turkey apparently looked at all the birdseed on the ground and decided that wasn't good enough. He wanted a seat at the table. Wild turkeys are part of life on our mountain. In spring, the males spread those magnificent tails and strut around after the hens as though the entire forest has been arranged for their personal courtship display. They're enormo

We used to see foxes near our house. Then we got corgis, and some of our wilder neighbors wisely kept their distance. Years later, after the corgis were gone, I looked outside one morning and discovered that at least one old neighbor had returned. The first fox we saw near our house stayed down the hill, slipping through the brush and keeping his distance. Then we got our corgis, and the neighborhood changed. The bobcats stopped coming onto the deck. The raccoons stopped comi

My first pigeons were the fat, determined city pigeons Grandpa fed from a pocketful of peanuts in Golden Gate Park. The pigeons outside my window today are an entirely different crowd. Tall, elegant and beautifully dressed. At least until they all pile into the feeder together. I knew pigeons long before I knew juncos. My grandparents lived on Waller Street in San Francisco, and when we visited them in the 1950s, Grandpa would walk down through the Panhandle to the children's

Twenty-four years ago, when we first moved to the Santa Cruz Mountains, we put out some birdseed and waited. And waited. Finally, one little gray bird arrived. We didn't even know what he was. We named him Fat Freddy, pulled out our bird book and discovered our first mountain junco. When we moved to the mountain 24 years ago, we didn't know much about birds. Down in Silicon Valley, we knew the usual suspects: robins, scrub jays, chickadees and sparrows, with an occasional mou

My great-grandmother, both my grandmothers, and my mama rocked me in this chair. Later, I rocked my daughter and granddaughter in it. Now two treasured little toys keep each other company on the seat. This chair has been part of our family’s love for generations, and I’m grateful it is still here. There is a rocking chair in my house that reaches much farther back than I do. My great-grandmother Mimi rocked me in it when I was a brand-new baby. So did my grandma Ellen, my mam

Two jays, an acorn woodpecker, and a gentleman in his gray suit have gathered at the feeder. I call it my United Nations of birds. While people gather inside our house, the feathered visitors have their own gathering outside. Watching them is one of my everyday pleasures. There are two birdbaths outside my bedroom window. One holds water. The other serves as a seed feeder, and apparently word has gotten around. On this particular visit, two jays, an acorn woodpecker, and one

My little birdhouse is dressed for fall, surrounded by orange leaves. And inside my own house, October means birthdays, pumpkin pies, persimmon bread, and people I love coming through the door. This is our gathering month. I look forward to it all year. Look at that little birdhouse tucked beneath the orange leaves. Doesn’t it look ready to welcome someone home? That’s how I feel this week. October is here, my birthday has just passed, and our family gathering is underway. Fr

This time nobody left anything for me. No one carved it, stacked it or put it there. The forest made its own little surprise, and my only job was to notice. By the third little discovery, I began to see a pattern. First there were hearts in the moss. Then a cairn left by another hiker. And then I spotted this strange, beautiful burst of orange growing from the side of an old tree. This one hadn't been left by another person. Nobody arranged it for me to find. The forest had m

Someone stopped here before me, gathered a few rocks and carefully balanced them. I don't know who made this little cairn or why. But for a moment, two strangers who will probably never meet shared the same spot on the mountain. It doesn't take much to make me stop on a trail. Sometimes it's something grand, a sweeping view or an enormous redwood. Sometimes it's a few rocks carefully balanced on top of one another. Someone had stopped here before me and made this little cairn

Someone scratched two little hearts into the moss on a rock beside the trail. I don't know who left them or why. I only know that one day I walked by, noticed them, and received a tiny gift intended for no one in particular. I have walked past thousands of rocks on thousands of hikes. Most of them remain simply rocks. But one day I came upon this moss-covered boulder and noticed two symbols - heart and peace - scratched into the green. I don't know who made them, when they m

I was sitting beside one of my favorite places to meditate when a homemade little raft with a great big heart simply sailed into view. Down the hill from our mountain home, across Skyline Boulevard and down Ward Road, is Jikoji Zen Buddhist Center. I first discovered Jikoji years ago when I was looking for places to hike with my corgis, Toby and Piper. I wandered down the road, found this little Zen Buddhist community tucked into the mountains, and over the years it became pa

A basket marked “Help Yourself” held more than fresh vegetables. One tomato carried me back 65 years.Almost every time I go to Pilates, there is a basket of fresh vegetables waiting by the front desk. Almost every time I go to Pilates, there is a basket of fresh vegetables waiting by the front desk. They are clearly homegrown. Odd shapes, wonderful colors, tomatoes that look like tomatoes instead of something manufactured to survive a grocery-store shelf. And tucked into the

I lost my bandana on Friday. After a busy weekend, I was back to the same trail on Monday, where someone I’ll probably never meet had made sure it was waiting for me. After a week of thinking about how far our own small acts of kindness might travel, I found myself on the receiving end of one. I had been hiking on Friday and apparently lost my bandana somewhere along the way. I didn’t even realize it was missing. Then on Monday, halfway through another hike, I reached for my

Forty-one years later, the tables have turned. The little girl who came along to my marketing events grew up and put me to work at hers. 😂 Some stories take a very long time to come full circle. That little girl on the telephone is my daughter Ali. It was about 1985, and apparently I was already teaching her the fine art of talking on the phone. Over the years, Ali came along to more marketing events than either of us could possibly count. She grew up around my work. Fast-fo

This particular gift traveled from an artist in Astoria, Oregon, through a friend, to a bee booth in California, and into the hands of a delighted stranger. And then, on Saturday, I actually got to watch another ripple travel. My friend Mary is a wonderfully gifted artist. She creates beautiful cards that are sold in a gift shop in Astoria, Oregon, and 100% of the proceeds from her cards are donated to the Assistance League of the Columbia Pacific, serving children in need. M

Most of the time, we never know what happens to the little bits of goodness we leave behind. Remember the Hobbit Tree? There was one more chapter waiting for me. I was hiking the trail with my friends John, Sharon and Vicki. John knew nothing about my Hobbit Tree adventure. He didn’t know about the little yellow gratitude rock I had tucked inside it. As we passed, I simply said, “Ah, look at that beautiful madrone tree.” John walked over. Then he bent down and looked inside.