Post by Kristin Jarvis Adams | April 15, 2020


My husband likes to get dirt under his fingernails. It’s in his DNA. Last night I found him outside on his hands and knees uprooting the few plants in our garden that had survived our wet winter weather.

“You will get better light here,” he said to a clump of strawberry plants before dropping them into a hole he dug with his hands.

“Why don’t you use a shovel or at least put on some gloves?” I asked.

I was met with a look that told me it was a ridiculous idea. Then he smiled. “Because the dirt feels amazing,” he said, crumbling it between his fingers.

I’ll admit, I don’t usually like digging around in the dirt, and very rarely do I make time for it in my daily life. But this morning when I woke to another day of birdsong and the creak of my old dog stepping down from his favorite chair instead of the distant drone of cars and the pressure of a to-do list, I felt the urge to commune with mother nature.

So, I walked outside in my pajamas and hugged a cherry tree. I thanked it for being beautiful. I thanked it for blooming in my front yard so I can see its millions of pink and white petals every time I look out the window. And standing there under its flowered canopy, I couldn’t help but feel a childlike delight as thousands of tiny heart-shaped petals were set free on the breeze.

No noise. No TV. No phone. No news. Just gratitude for the air I breathe, the juicy sharp scent of a freshly mowed lawn, and the pungent aroma of newly tilled soil. I became a tree hugger today and somehow it healed something in me that I didn’t realize was broken.

As we shelter in our homes, I hope we can remember that mother nature is still here, birthing all the living plants and animals that have been sleeping through the long winter. She is inviting us to notice her, enjoy her beauty, and remember that we are an important part of this remarkable world.

Be well, Kristin



I am not…

I am…

*Consider this 7-minute writing prompt by making a short list of objects you see in your home, then go outside and make a short list of things you see in nature. Incorporate items from your list into a sentence beginning with ‘I am not’, alternating with ‘I am’. I would love you to send me your writing in the comments! My own short exercise is below.

I Am 

I am not living in the grey swamplands of grief.

I am a fresh shelled pea, greeny life shining through a perfect sphere.

I am not a fly trapped on the windowsill, nosing the glass in search of escape.

I am the ladybug who transforms from a hard-shelled beetle into a flying shimmer of red painted with pearly black dots.

I am not the groaning fan, forced to stand century at the back of the room, excluded from others around me.

I am the breath of an ocean, my tides gathering life into its shadowy depths.

I am not a book whose pages have never seen the light of day.

I am a page that has been torn, stained, marked, and saved because someone loved me enough to memorize my words.

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Kristin Jarvis Adams' story of Andrew and Frightful is a beautiful and remarkable journey through medical mysteries, a reliance on a superhero chicken, and ultimately, a transcendent faith that ushers in hope when all else seems lost. 


  1. Stan Adams on April 16, 2020 at 7:15 am

    I am in complete awe of your gift as a writer. I am not a writer myself, so I will go no further.

    Hugs to you

  2. Cherry Jarvis on April 16, 2020 at 7:18 am

    Beautiful…and so true❤️ Taking time to enjoy Mother Nature really keeps us calmer – and happier…

  3. Carolyn on April 16, 2020 at 7:24 am

    I recently read that there is a bacteria in soil that boosts your mood and acts as an antidepressant. I guess that’s why we feel better after gardening!

  4. Pam Fitzpatrick on April 16, 2020 at 7:35 am

    This touched my soul. Today, I will purposely slow down and drink in nature. It’s a beautiful day to garden. Thanks Kristin!

  5. ellen boswell on April 16, 2020 at 7:51 am

    Thank you beautiful girl (yes still a girl to me). Setting alone with my dog and cat here in Phoenix. Your words warm me.

  6. Hedi on April 16, 2020 at 8:40 am

    Thank you, Kristin, for your beautiful words! It has certainly uplifted my spirit this morning and a desire to work in my vegetable garden. Enjoy this beautiful sunny day. Miss you!

  7. Nicole Barclay on April 20, 2020 at 9:28 am

    This is beautiful Kristin. So happy to see you writing 🙂

  8. ellen boswell on April 20, 2020 at 3:53 pm

    I have pictures of my garden in Edmonds. Great memories!

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