This is where some of the garden’s moments come to rest: the mourning dove who returned to the same window, the spider who chose one particular rose, the monarch who shared the beebalm, the flower that carried an old memory, and the mystery that remained open long after everyone had gone inside.

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These are not stories placed upon the garden from a distance. They began in one living place, with someone stopping long enough to notice what was already happening.

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There is no required order here.

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Choose a shelf. Follow a familiar neighbor. Open a story because its title caught your attention—or settle into the reading chair and begin wherever the garden leads you.

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