Every morning begins almost the same way. I make a cup of coffee, step outside, and before I can even take a sip, I hear them. The ducks are already chatting away as if they’re catching me up on everything that happened overnight. I usually answer them back, asking what could possibly be so important at six o’clock in the morning. Judging by how enthusiastically they continue their conversation, I’d say they have plenty to report. The chickens are waiting patiently for breakfast, the songbirds have already claimed the feeders, and somewhere in the garden a bee has started its work for the day. These quiet moments only last a few minutes before the rest of the house wakes up, but they’ve become one of my favorite parts of every day.
When most people think of a sanctuary, they picture sprawling fields, wooded trails, and hundreds of protected acres. I do too. In fact, creating an animal sanctuary is one of my biggest dreams for the future. But over the past few years, I’ve realized that a sanctuary doesn’t have to begin with a large piece of land. Sometimes it begins with a simple decision, to make whatever space you have a little more welcoming for wildlife, for the animals in your care, and even for yourself.
Our backyard isn’t perfect, and it certainly isn’t finished. Every season brings another project, another plant I’d like to try, or another corner I’d like to improve. But little by little, it has become a place that feels alive. The vegetable garden feeds more than just our family. Bees drift from blossom to blossom, butterflies stop by throughout the summer, and birds happily hunt for insects while I pull weeds. It’s impossible to spend time out there without noticing how everything is connected.
Then there are the ducks and chickens, who are easily the most entertaining members of the household. The ducks have something to say about everything. They know my routine, they watch me while I’m outside, and they somehow manage to make me laugh every single day. The chickens are quieter, but just as fascinating. They’re always busy scratching through the dirt and grass, taking dust baths, or following one another around the yard. Watching them reminds me how much joy there is in slowing down and paying attention to the little things.
Some of my favorite visitors don’t actually live here. Finches fill the trees surrounding the yard, chickadees dart between the feeders, blue jays announce themselves long before I see them, and grackles patrol the lawn or the squirrels acting like gymnasts on the fence. Lately, I’ve even been greeted by a raven who often flies over to see what’s happening. I like to imagine it’s checking in on the morning’s activities, watching over the yard from above before continuing on its way. Whether that’s true or not, it’s become one of those little moments that makes me smile.
Every season brings something new to notice, and every year I find myself planting a little more with wildlife in mind. Milkweed for the monarchs, bee balm for the bees and hummingbirds, sunflowers for the finches, and a variety of native plants that offer food and shelter throughout the year. It’s amazing how quickly nature responds when you simply give it a place where it’s welcome. Before long, the backyard begins to feel less like something we own and more like something we share.
Life has a way of becoming busy before we even realize it. There are appointments to keep, errands to run, work to finish, and a thousand things competing for our attention. Stepping into the backyard has become my way of pressing pause. The garden doesn’t care about my to-do list. The birds aren’t worried about tomorrow. The ducks certainly aren’t rushing through their morning conversations. Being surrounded by that simple rhythm reminds me that not every moment has to be productive to be meaningful.
I still hope that one day I’ll have the opportunity to build a larger animal sanctuary. It’s a dream that continues to grow right alongside the vegetables and flowers in this little backyard. But this space has already taught me one of the most valuable lessons I could have learned: you don’t have to wait for your dream property to start living your dream. You can plant flowers for the bees. Hang a bird feeder outside your window. Grow a few vegetables. Rescue a few animals if you’re able. Or simply take your morning coffee outside and notice the life that’s already there.
Maybe that’s what a sanctuary really is. Not a certain number of acres or a perfectly designed landscape, but a place where life is welcomed, where nature is given room to flourish, and where we remember to slow down long enough to appreciate it. For me, that place just happens to be my own backyard.
Acorn & Birch 