Why Gardening for Discovery Matters Just as Much as Design

It never fails. The way we can be looking for something for weeks, if not months. And then, just as we stop looking, when we are officially ready to throw in the towel, the lost item appears. Ready to come out of hiding.

Just this week, while dusting the family room, trying not to disrupt the organized color-coded piles of Lego bricks scattered around, I spotted a small plastic artifact under the sofa — my teen daughter’s mouthguard, long lost for…we don’t honestly know…weeks or months? There it was, all by itself on the hardwood floor like it had just been waiting to be found. We had hope that it didn’t get left at basketball camp in August. We also hoped it would turn up one day. Oddly, I didn’t pick it up right away and burst into happiness. I took a picture of it instead. A little snippet of our day-to-day home. Part chaos and part comfort.

The Garden Is In a Mood Right Now

The fall garden feels much the same right now. A little chaotic with fallen leaves everywhere and dried seed heads poking up like little prickly candies. Plenty of felled sticks from all the wind. But also a little comforting too. The colors softening from bright golds to soft browns, fiery reds to burnt browns and auburn. The mood is cozy and quiet as the garden is ready for a rest.

This afternoon, I found something else — a few milkweed pods by the patio, their silk shining in the November sun. I took a few seeds, and tucked them into my palm and carried them away. To a portion of my garden that doesn’t currently have any Asclepias. To the soil beneath our lamppost — among the coneflowers and beardtongue. Just a small act, but one that felt a little chaotic because I have no idea if those seeds will take in the soil, and some blew away right out of my hand! But also a little comforting too. Doing a small act now for more butterfly weed on my property for next summer’s butterflies. It was a small discovery when I was not even looking for them.

What’s Lost Isn’t Gone… It is Just Waiting For You to Slow Down To See It

Maybe that’s what I love most about gardening for wildlife: how it teaches us to notice. To see small changes and notice the slow pace of the seasons in real time. The forest floor doesn’t rake its leaves or plan its patterns, and yet it’s endlessly fascinating. Maybe our homes and gardens can be that way too — not always tidy, but alive with the possibility of finding something wonderful when we least expect it. A little chaotic. And a little comforting.

This tiny moment of finding the mouthguard reminded me of another discovery, almost two decades ago. I was at work when my boss gasped and pointed at my left ring finger: “You’re missing a stone!”

Sure enough, a tiny side diamond had fallen out of my wedding band. We had it replaced right away, and I didn’t think about it again — until a month or two later. I was vacuuming the driver’s side of my car, when I noticed a glimmer among the gravel, mud, bits of leaves. I put down the vacuum, bent closer, and there it was: the missing diamond. Miraculously, its sparkle made me cut the power just in time.

I still have that little stone, tucked away in my jewelry box. A reminder that sometimes, what’s lost isn’t gone — just waiting for you to slow down enough to see it.