Daily walks. That’s how it all began. Having a high energy, young pup, we had an obligation to walk him and let that energy out somewhere. Building an earth house at the time left us little energy ourselves for those walks, but we did – exhausted or not, rain or shine, we’d walk.

And as we walked, we noticed: Buds and blossoms beginning to form on the trees, the visiting bees, the teeny fruits forming, the plants that needed more water in the warming weather, timing the walk to bypass the full heat of midday, stopping at each waterhole for a cool doggy-drink, the berries to forage along the way, the amber colour changes creeping into the leaves, the crunching fallen leaves underfoot signaling collection for compost making, the light disappearing earlier, tree branches standing still and desolately bare, the lemons finally ripe to pick, the crisp wind on my cheeks, muddied gumboots underfoot, the moon and stars guiding walks home under darkened skies…

House built, time flew, then babies grew. Each pregnancy had seasonal memories connected to them: Tolerating only feijoas through morning sickness, parched and thirsty for lemon waters in the middle of the night, Matariki’s company as grief dawned, picking plump peaches with my belly again in full bloom, mulberries ripening as we welcome another baby…

These conversations were part of our children’s life from the beginning. Drawing attention to the more obvious seasonal changes at Autumn and Spring, noticing what we were harvesting and eating from our garden, celebrating, with excitement, the arrival of their birthday fruits. They knew their birth season before their birthday. Nature showed them and they remembered.

Inspiration to paint our seasons grew from our ongoing conversations. “That’s me!” they’d declare as they looked on at the painting slowly forming. Reverence for nature began to blend, influenced by my heritage and my homeland, the celtic wheel of the year, and the maramataka Maori.

The seasonal wheel became a work in progress for a long time, beginning when my 5 year old was 2, when time was interrupted and scarce. But bit by bit it came together, through nature’s seasons and life’s seasons, it took shape.

Now spring energy gives its final surge forth as November is nearly turns to December. I have been trying to harness the momentum of the growing, waxing moon. Oturu shines like a beacon, and a special eclipse, altogether encourage the last push, push, push.

And now! I am proud to have it complete and finally share. I hope this seasonal wheel brings gifts of nature-noticing to your family and offers opportunity to create meaningful seasonal rituals – a celebration of the magic of nature’s ongoing rhythms and cycles that support us.

We’d love you to check out our New Zealand Season and Cycles collection, and create a beautiful monthly and seasonal ritual with your tamariki, reflecting on the rhythms of nature and the changes of the passing seasons.

The illustrations allow children to connect visually with the seasons, helping to observe how each flow into each other in an ongoing cycle of nature and view the passing of time – year, after year, after year. It is designed with te reo Māori months, seasons and days of the week, helping to bring these kupu/words into every day use and strengthen learning in te reo Māori.