Hello to you! This is a repost from my substack account, because I would like for these to live both here and there. I have one more repost after this one, and then their posting will align in both places.

Lately I’ve been going back to basics, noticing little moments in the days that remind me of what it means to be alive on this earth. And so I wanted to start a little series on here, something akin to my “loved, noticed, cherished” notes at the bottom of monthly archives, but with a wider scope. I want to expand, including everything from flowers I see on my walks to a line in a book I’m reading to bits of a conversation I’ve had with a friend. Whatever it is, it’ll be something that brings joy and beauty and curiosity to my days (and I hope it does for you, too).

Without any more preamble, let’s begin:

Field notes, July 2025

1. This poem, that’s been haunting me for some time.

2. When I was a kid, a good amount of my time was spent outside, even when it was cold and wet. I’ve been thinking about this recently, how so much of my time is spent indoors, except when I’m watering my garden; I rarely even go on walks anymore, something I did every day in my early twenties. And so I’m going to go on more walks. The one problem is that I am not a summer kind of girl—I don’t enjoy being hot—but I’m not going to use that as an excuse. But I’d also like to be outside and just be: drinking my morning coffee on the porch; writing in my journal at the little wooden table; reading in the hammock. When autumn comes around, I’ll still go for walks, and do everything else too; just with more layers. I think this will be good for me.

3. This artwork, titled “Italian Garden,” by Marthe Armitage:

4. A lot of the time, I struggle to put words to what I’m feeling, and so I tend to use shapes, colours, metaphors, etc. (Sometimes, that also fails, but more on that another time.) Lately, though, I’ve been feeling something I don’t have a word (words?) for: something that feels like the colour of honey and is smooth around the edges. Contentment? Tranquility? I’m not sure, but it’s one of the most lovely feelings I’ve had in a while. I’m trying to figure out how to bottle it.

5. These quotes from Anais Nin:

“Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born.”

―The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 1: 1931-1934

“You live like this, sheltered, in a delicate world, and you believe you are living. Then you read a book… or you take a trip… and you discover that you are not living, that you are hibernating. The symptoms of hibernating are easily detectable: first, restlessness. The second symptom (when hibernating becomes dangerous and might degenerate into death): absence of pleasure. That is all. It appears like an innocuous illness. Monotony, boredom, death. Millions live like this (or die like this) without knowing it. They work in offices. They drive a car. They picnic with their families. They raise children. And then some shock treatment takes place, a person, a book, a song, and it awakens them and saves them from death. Some never awaken.”

―The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 1: 1931-1934

“Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one’s courage.”

6. From my notes app:

7. July 21, 2025: at the library, having a writing & editing night with a friend. We sat at a high table facing the window, and outside we saw deep pink roses and chartreuse leaves blowing in the wind, the sun cast across the grass. Despite feeling sick, and a little apprehensive (about life, the future), I couldn’t help feeling wonderful knowing the world outside exists regardless of whether we do.

8. These pansies, spied at a local rose garden:

9. A conversation I had with a friend recently revolved around sound, specifically the repetitive sounds found on short-form video content. I don’t know what shifted, but once I came back from the cruise in early June, my ability to listen to any of it completely fizzled. Something about how short it is, how it often cuts off part way through (if you’re listening around another person and they’re the one scrolling, not letting the video end), how every second video seems to use the same audio. I don’t want it anymore! I’m not ok with it! Please, can we get rid of short-form video content already <3 Or at least get rid of trending audio, so each video will have whatever fits it best thematically, rather than what’s popular at the time.

10. I do love a little bibliomancy, and so here’s a line from Midge Ellis Keeble’s Tottering in My Garden: A Gardener’s Memoir, flipped open at random:

11. I’ve been thinking a lot about Erin Morgenstern’s The Night Circus, which I’ve read (almost) every year since I was twenty years old. Reading this gives me a similar feeling to note no. 4, though a little more blue around the edges (yet not in a sad way). Often I pick the book up somewhere between late August and mid-September, but as I’m writing this in late July, I find myself wanting to reach for it early. Will that ruin the magic? I guess I’ll find out.

Talk to you again soon.

—Catherine

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