I have always been captivated by picking flowers. When I was a little girl, I picked the sweet blue henbit, the Winter weed that shimmers azure in early Spring as  …

With an armful of potting soil, packaged seeds, and last month’s newspapers, I prepare for a day of work. No, I’m not a professional gardener or a horticulturalist. I am  …

Dad, I still don’t know where all those wildflowers came from the year you came to live with me in California.  …

Stealing is a sin and a crime, but what about picking up fruit that’s fallen in someone’s yard? This was a serious issue for me after I moved to California  …

Name a famous squirrel. Go on, try. And just for an extra challenge, make it a real-life squirrel.  …

Trevor, why the $&@**!! did you do that?” I hear my neighbor yell at his 12-year-old son. I am on my back deck; they are in their front yard two  …

The metal pig belonged to a neighbor. You could tell it was heavy because the wind and snow didn’t budge it. Ensconced next to a broken cherub, a squirrel, statues  …

Once there was a lady who was determined to grow her own vegetables to feed her young family. She had no space at home, so went to her local allotment  …

I was 30 years old when my father retired. Since he was a pastor, we had never really had a home: our family just resided in the church manses where  …

My husband Tim and I live next to a small lake in Minnesota. Migrating loons stop by our lake every April, hang out for a few days, hone their yodeling  …