I stand at the window and look out at my garden. Birds come and go from the feeder.

House sparrow. Goldfinch. Cardinal. House finch. Junco. Song sparrow. Chickadee. I watch as a cute little downy woodpecker swoops to the remnants of my runner beans. He lands on a bean and pecks at it, swaying, swaying.

This little glimpse of nature and my garden brings me so much joy. Especially in the winter when I can’t be in the garden.

The window I’m standing in front of is in the bathroom. Only this window and one window in the bedroom look out into my garden. The views from my studio windows: street, houses, cars, campers, garbage cans, telephone poles.

Most of the time it’s not very inspiring.

But if I’m paying attention, sometimes it is.

Even so, I fantasize about looking from any window and seeing gardens. Trees. Birds. Hills. Fields.

Someday.

And so I stand at the bathroom window and look out. Grateful for the views that I do have. Grateful for the birds who visit even my sleeping garden.

My garden. Nature. I’m so grateful for the inspiration, joy, sustenance and solace I find in both.

Although I might not have beautiful views from every window in our home, I’ve brought nature’s beauty inside.

Plants are everywhere in my home and I’m grateful for their constant companionship and for the inspiration they bring my art.

I’m grateful that during my walks in town I can look out to open space and hills and fields.

And that I’m able to wander into parks and walk through the trees.

I’m grateful that while shoveling snow in front of the house I caught a glimpse of an eagle flying low. The joys of paying attention.

Even when I lived in the city I found little bits of nature tucked here and there. And I always cultivated it, too. Plants grown on my windowsills, rooftops, community garden and then, finally, my own backyard. Gardening and nature have always brought me peace.

In the midst of winter I know an abundant garden will replace the snow.

And that what I grow will feed my creativity.

I’m grateful for the seed catalogs arriving in my mailbox, helping me dream of next year’s garden. I’m grateful for harvests preserved to remind me all winter of the glory of summer.

A world without art and creativity would be bleak indeed; a world devoid of nature and gardens would be bleaker still.

And so for this last post of 2022, I want to celebrate the beauty and joy of gardens and nature and invite you to celebrate them, too. I’m so grateful they’re such a huge part of my life and my art.

Of course, I’m grateful, that you’re part of my life, too. Thank you for joining me in 2022.

Wishing you a beautiful rest of your year.

See you in 2023!