A Perfect PNW Day: Rooted in the Wild and Nourished by Nature

Today is the kind of day that makes me fall in love with the Pacific Northwest all over again. The sun is out, the breeze is soft, and the temperature is hovering in the low 70s. Just enough warmth to feel alive, but not so hot it sends us running for shade. It's the kind of day that invites you to slow down, breathe in the cedar-scented air, and really look around.

In my backyard, we have two large palm trees—something that still surprises people when they picture the PNW. And here’s something I recently learned: these palm trees grow berries. Yes, berries! I was shocked the first time I noticed them. This particular variety is edible once ripe, and while they’re not ready yet, I’m oddly excited to try one. It’s a small but powerful reminder that the earth is always providing, always nourishing, even when we don’t realize it.

Lately, I’ve been reflecting more and more on what it means to live close to nature. To really notice it. And honestly, it saddens me to watch so many new developments going up, flattening spaces that were once rich with trees, ferns, birdsong, and buzzing life. I know growth is inevitable, but I can’t help but feel protective of the green around me. The trees. The animals. The messy, miraculous wild.

Well… most animals.

I used to think squirrels were the cutest forest friends—until one decided to move in. Literally. It chewed through the side of our house, claimed the attic as its own, and started poking tiny holes in the ceiling, as if to say, “Hi! Just checking in!” Needless to say, my relationship with squirrels has shifted.

Still, I’m grateful. Grateful for this land and the way it’s shaped me. The PNW has held me through childhood and adulthood alike. It’s taught me the beauty of rain, the strength in stillness, and the magic of seasons that unfold slowly and meaningfully.

And today, I keep coming back to those palm trees. Quietly rooted in my yard, doing what they do best—growing steadily and, in time, bearing fruit. They remind me that when we take the time to ground ourselves where we are, when we sink in, stay present, and connect to what’s around us, we can grow something beautiful too.

We can be fruitful not just for ourselves, but for the people and communities we love.

With heart,
Margaux

🌿 In the rain, we root. In the wild, we grow.

Palm trees? In the PNW? And they grow berries? Nature, you magical little weirdo—I’m here for it!

Just your friendly neighborhood squirrel reminding you to stay grounded.
And maybe patch your ceiling after :)