As far back as I can remember, the natural world had a magnetic pull on me.

When I was three years old, I’d wander away from my mom at the store. She’d find me, always, in the plant aisles somewhere between the fiddle-leaf figs and the jade plants. At four years old, I asked Santa for a plant for Christmas. You heard me right, Santa. You can keep your dolls. At five, I was a garter snake tracker, fort maker, and picker of all flowers. By 17, I built a large stone patio based on a photo I had been drooling over in my Fine Gardening magazine. This was about the time when my mom suggested I explore landscape architecture as a possible career path.

The other side of the coin is that I’m a veterinarian’s daughter. I grew up amongst the wildest and tamest of animals: red-tail hawks and chickens, camels and ponies, badgers and Labradors, Bengal tigers and tabby cats. I watched surgeries, bottle fed four-legged babies, shoveled shit, and everything else that goes along with caring for and rehabilitating animals. My gratitude for these experiences is immeasurable.

Jump to age 40. I have twin toddlers and I’m thinking about their childhoods and what they need now for the development of their bodies, minds, and spirits. I also wanted for them what I had: full engagement of the senses and self, and a deep bond with nature and its creatures. So, what am I doing about that? I’m building my girls a sensory garden, a space that engages their seven senses and so much more.