Snapdragon Magic

I hope this note finds you well and settling into the rhythms of late spring/early summer. How are things blooming in your world?

Here, my spring has been filled with gardening—what I sometimes jokingly call “farming.” I tucked seeds into the ground just before a rain shower, fingers crossed that the magic will happen. Gardening always feels like a bit of a leap of faith. Will the seeds sprout? Will the earth offer up her gifts?

Speaking of gifts, one of the most surprising and delightful things growing in my garden right now is a volunteer snapdragon. You know how volunteer plants pop up on their own? Usually, they’re weeds or leftover squash from last year’s compost. But a couple of years ago, this mystery plant appeared in my garden. I decided to let it grow, and what emerged was a spectacular snapdragon—vibrant, unique in color, and more beautiful than any I’ve planted intentionally.

It’s returned each spring since then, spreading joyfully into new corners of the garden. I’ve watched it grow in the unlikeliest places—between stone paths, beside a metal retaining wall, even in compacted soil where nothing else thrives. And every year, it gets more vibrant, more abundant. It feels like a little miracle, a whisper from nature reminding me of the magic all around—and within—us.

Robin Wall Kimmerer, the author of Braiding Sweetgrass, offers a powerful view of the world rooted in reciprocity—the idea that everything in nature exists in a cycle of giving and receiving. The bee takes nectar from the flower and gives pollination in return. The natural world thrives on this balance.

She describes something called the Honorable Harvest, a way of relating to the earth that includes asking permission before taking, never taking the first or the last, only taking what is needed, and offering something in return. It’s a beautiful, intentional practice—a sacred agreement with life.

This snapdragon feels like a gift. And in return, I offer my care, my attention, my gratitude. I’ve come to see it as a teacher. It reminds me that abundance doesn’t always show up where we expect it, and that sometimes the greatest beauty comes from what grows wild, unplanned, and untamed.

I know that in times like these—when jobs are uncertain, when the cost of living rises, when it feels like we’re being asked to stretch further than we can—it can seem out of touch to talk about abundance. But I’m going to talk about it anyway, because abundance is not just about money or material things.

It’s about noticing. It’s about presence. It’s about the way sunlight filters through the trees, the smell of rain on the soil, the unexpected bloom in the garden. It’s the friend who checks in at the right time, the stranger who smiles at you in the grocery store, the inner voice that reminds you you’re not alone.

There is so much beauty waiting to be seen—both in the world around us and within ourselves. Nature doesn’t question its worth. The snapdragon doesn’t wonder if it’s good enough to bloom. It simply is—authentic, resilient, and whole. What if we allowed ourselves to be that free?

So today, I invite you to look around. Notice something beautiful that wasn’t part of the plan. Thank it. Then, turn that same loving attention inward. There is wild magic in you too. Something within you is always trying to grow, even through concrete, even in unexpected places.

You are the miracle. You are the garden. Let yourself bloom.

With love and gratitude,
Kirsten