Mary Horton

There is a narrow path through my woods that almost disappears every summer. By July, the grass grows tall, the ferns lean into the trail, and blackberry vines begin reaching across it. If you didn't already know the path was there, you might think it ended. It would be easy to turn around and assume there was nowhere left to go. But the path is still there. Sometimes all it takes is one more step. This week reminded me of that. Life has a way of placing obstacles in front of the things we...

There is a tree on my property that I find myself returning to again and again. Sometimes I walk to it with purpose. Other times, I end up there without even realizing I was headed in that direction. When life feels especially noisy, I slip off my shoes, let the grass cool my feet, and simply stand beneath its branches for a while. The tree never asks questions. It never hurries me. It doesn't expect me to have everything figured out before I arrive. It simply stands. Steady. Season after...

Welcome to Through the Garden Gate—a weekly letter from Of Herb & Stone where we slow down together for a few quiet moments. When we admire a beautiful garden, we rarely think about the work hidden beneath the soil. We notice the blossoms, the fragrance, and the colors dancing in the breeze. We don't see the roots stretching quietly through the earth, gathering strength long before a single flower appears. Life has a way of working like that, too. This week reminded me that some of our most...