Warm sand, sea salt, wild roses – a Mediterranean-feeling week and the rainy evening after, with tea and writing a story.

Swimming alone in a still lake, gathering bedstraw from a sunlit meadow – the small moments a lifebook is made of.

Barefoot in the cold Estonian sea, the last wild roses falling, plants that passed us by – on summer's slow green, and learning to notice small, beautiful moments.

My first lifebook was drawn in coloured pencil. A gentle, non-judgmental note on how I create – by hand, in nature, and with a little help from something new – and on finding peace between the extremes.

A herbarium is more than pressed flowers. It is the day a plant found you – the light, the company, the small adventure. On gathering, slowing, and keeping a book that remembers everything.

Childhood, a country house, and a mother who sent us out for dandelion leaves – the story of how I became one small link in a long line of plant-wise women.

Why winter, why summer? On choosing your lifebook – not by the calendar, but by the colours that feel like you.

The story of how Inner Garden began – with a hand-stitched childhood book, a cup of tea, and a lifelong love of writing myself into being.