A gentle February to you, friend! We've had a few of those teasing winter-spring days here—beautiful reminders that spring is coming, even if winter isn't quite done with us yet.
In these final winter weeks, it's a perfect time to welcome the gifts of rest and play—gifts that we can so often overlook. I hope these reflections inspire you to say yes to both!
In this Notes edition, you'll find:
☀️ An invitation to rest, inspired by snow-covered ground and the beauty of stillness
🌿 A note about nature gazing, and a question I'd love your thoughts on
🎨 A reminder that play is not frivolous—it’s part of how we’re made, and part of creating a beautiful life
Plus: a short sledding video featuring yours truly and a special cameo from Ophelia🐾
Wishing you moments of deep rest and delightful play this February! 💛
Notes from Nature: Invited to Rest
It was one of those remarkable winter days—full of bright sunlight and clear skies—following a day of thick gray clouds and snowfall. The snow had fallen long enough to cover the ground inches deep, and the clouds had disappeared. A gust of wintry wind lifted icy snowflakes back into the air, where they briefly glinted in the sunlight before settling softly elsewhere. The subzero temperatures made it a perfect day to enjoy the beauty of the winter landscape…from the warmth of my sofa.
White and blue filled my vision, and I imagined the hidden ground gently inviting me to join in deep rest—to enjoy the view of the soft blue sky—a lovely ceiling floating above a smooth fluffy comforter of white. As I gazed out the window, drawn into the calm, a palpable stillness settled over me. My breath slowed, and my body and mind relaxed. Peace stepped in, and joy softly followed. Everything else drifted away.
What a gift—this invitation spoken through the voice of the earth—snugly tucked in—showing me how right and good it is to rest. To nestle in under the covers. To release the pull of busyness for the day. If the earth that brings forth life needs deep rest, don't we all?
It’s true that warmer days are coming, and that soon, buds will bloom and seeds will sprout in a flurry of growth—something to look forward to. But this moment– it was time to relish a day divinely designed for rest. And so I accepted the invitation to sit awhile with calm, rest, and peace
These invitations are around us, my friends, in these final days of winter, waiting for us to simply say yes—God's gift of beauty, silently speaking to us through the voice of the season.
Notes of Joy: Invited to Gaze
Nature is one of the greatest gifts in my life—a source of peace, wonder, joy, and connection with God that I return to again and again. That remarkable winter moment I shared? That's really just what I call nature gazing, and it's such a beautiful, rich part of my life.
Sharing these experiences through Notes from the Bower has been such a joy, and I'd love to go deeper—to share the practice of nature gazing itself with you. Not as something I've perfected, but as something that's brought me so much blessing. If this kind of practice speaks to your heart, I'd love to know.
Does the idea of nature gazing speak to your heart?
If you choose not to find joy in the snow, you will have less joy but still the same amount of snow".
— John Muir
Notes from the Studio: Invited to Play
One evening, I was feeling off and out of sorts. I'd been hoping for a solid block of time to paint—to make progress on an abstract floral piece I'd started. But it hadn't happened. It was getting close to the end of the day, and I walked into my art room to tidy a few things.
Feeling rather disappointed and frustrated, I walked over to the table where I keep markers, pencils and such at the ready. Staring down at the hardback art journal my niece had given me for Christmas—"No words, just art" emblazoned on the cover—I paused for a moment.
I quickly sat down, opened to a blank page, and grabbed the first marker that caught my eye. For the next ten minutes, I threw myself into doodling, scribbling, scratching with crayons, pencils, markers. I just played.
When I was done filling the facing pages to my satisfaction, I looked at what I had created. It was quite unimpressive as far as artwork goes.
And it felt great.
I went to bed that night with a small victory and a smile on my face.
The next day I realized that what I'd actually needed wasn't more work time—it was more playtime. And the beautiful thing is—we're designed for this. We're all God's children, and part of being a child is play. It's not extra. It's not frivolous. It's a genuine gift that refreshes our hearts and minds so we can do everything else we need to do. And it's part of creating a beautiful life.
Here's my invitation to you, friend: Find a few minutes to play today. Day not going as planned? Feeling heavy? Then do something playful—whatever that looks like to you. Dance around the room. Color. Grab your kid's toy truck and push it around. Throw yourself into it! Need more play inspiration? Watch a little sledding fun here!
I genuinely believe God looks at us when we’re worn out and weary and, like a loving parent, invites us to go play for a little while. And when we do, we open ourselves to receive the rest and joy we’ve been needing all along—which, I imagine, puts a smile of delight on God’s face.
my very satisfying playtime work 😄
and later that week...some progress on that abstract floral! ☺️
The next edition of Notes from the Bower is scheduled to arrive in your inbox March 11th. Until then, wishing you much peace, joy, and beauty!
