What do a peach-stealing squirrel, jelly-like gummosis, and old wounds have in common? A not-so-peachy garden dilemma offers lessons about tree health, resilience, and what may be happening beneath the surface.

A neglected vegetable garden, leftover seeds, and a disappointing spring harvest reveal unexpected possibilities for fall planting—and a reminder that it’s not too late to begin again.

Mile-a-minute and Japanese stilt grass have taken hold in parts of my woodland, while heavy rains unexpectedly cleared the duckweed from my pond. Amid the weeds, ferns, an old stone wall, and Blackberry Lilies offer a reminder: We aren't meant to tend everything at once.

What if doing nothing is actually one of the most important things we can do? A modest vegetable harvest, one perfect cherry tomato, birdwatching, and peaceful moments in the garden remind Mary Stone that slowing down often reveals life's greatest gifts.

A healthy rose suddenly became loose in the soil, revealing a mystery beneath the mulch. What first appeared to be chipmunk damage led to an unexpected culprit, solutions for protecting treasured plants, and a reminder that gardens—and life—often invite us to look beneath the surface.

Leave room for wandering. What began as a trip to purchase annuals became a treasure hunt filled with unusual vegetables, greenhouse discoveries, practical planting tips, and a reminder that some of life's greatest treasures are found beyond what we originally came looking for.

A weekend at Comfort Zone Camp reveals healing beneath the Mayapple: the wisdom of the magical plant, reflections on loss, kindness, nature, and the courage of brave children healing from a loss of a family member to suicide.

Skunk cabbage may not win any beauty contests (though I feel its beautiful), but this remarkable native wetland plant offers one of nature's earliest signs of spring. From melting snow with its own warmth to feeding emerging pollinators, skunk cabbage reminds us that beauty, resilienc

From the difference between edible rhubarb and ornamental rhubarb, from blooming tea to rhubarb custard pie, Mary Stone reflects on friendship, healing, and the beautiful ways kindness helps us grow through difficult seasons of life.

Sometimes what we see as a problem is merely a message. A visit to a longtime client’s garden reveals lessons in declining plants, thriving moss, and how working with nature—not against it—can lead to something even more beautiful.