The Magical Launch

On the thrill of new projects and the ups and downs of sustaining them

Oct 08, 2024

As I’ve written about before, I met my husband Nate on a Wednesday and moved in with him that Saturday. We jumped into love fast (you don’t overthink love at 21—or at least I didn’t). What we did overthink was when to have kids and how to go about our creative endeavors. We didn’t have William (our eldest) until I was 34. And our myriad artistic projects? They tend to follow some version of the Thunderbolt’s steep, twisted, thrilling trajectory:

I would love for our projects to go up and up, then up some more. But that’s not how it goes, and as much as the precipitous descents hurt (because, oof, they hurt), they also help us rethink/reconsider/regroup and all sorts of other verbs that start with “re” and signify a pause and a change. This post is about the result of such a moment. It’s about a new project that is climbing up the hill of possibility with that delicious spark that the beginning of something marvelous ignites. A project that involves birds, native gardens, and my beloved husband. You could argue it all began in the late 1950s when Nate’s grandfather Bill Bowler fell in love with birding, but I’m going to begin this story last Thursday at the Beechwood Farms native plants October sale.

A woman and a man stand together smiling at the camera surrounded by potted plants on wooden stands with small signs explaining what they each are. They each hold a plant. They are backlit by the afternoon sun. It is an early fall day. — All native plants all the time at Beechwood Farms.

On October 3^rd (which is also Mean Girls day… how fetch), Nate turned 49 and we began our celebration by getting seven plants for our native garden. That I picked five and Nate two (on his fetch birthday to boot) goes to show how generous and patient my husband is. These are qualities that lend themselves to nurturing relationships and growing things. Nate began planting our native garden last spring, and unlike The Thunderbolt, it has mostly gone up. Sometimes the deer chew some plant down to its stems, and then there’s the fall threatening to turn the whole thing off for months. But, by and large, the garden is growing, which is great because Nate’s ulterior motive is to create a habitat for bugs, mushrooms, and whatever creatures and miniscule entities make birds happy. Why birds, you ask?

A boy and a woman sit cross-legged on the grass before a patch of earth with plants and fall leaves. They are pulling grass and smiling. Behind them there are earth bags and gardening tools. It is a sunny, early fall afternoon. — William and I try our hand at gardening. (Photo by Nathaniel Bowler).

Nate’s a third-generation birder who, like thousands of people, stayed sane during the pandemic by birding. He watches, counts, and reports what he sees to the scientists at The Cornell Lab of Ornithology, who use the data to figure out what birds are doing and how they’re doing. For birds to be happy, their whole habitat needs to be happy, and that means plants, bugs, waterways. It means our planet and those who inhabit it. So birding helps birds, while helping the rest of us.

A woman and a boy hold a watering can together and pour water over a patch of earth. A man holds a plant in his hand to protect it from the water. He is sitting down and his face is hidden by his hat. They are standing in a small garden with leafy plants and small flowers. Behind them there are tall oak trees. It is an early fall, sunny afternoon. — Nate is always vague about how much water to give a new plant after its traumatic move to a new home. Here Santiago and I are trying to give it “a good soaking,” as Nate calls it. (Photo by William Hidalgo-Bowler).

Nate’s native garden and his compost feed a host of creatures and nourish our ground, and now Nate is taking his love to the digital sphere with his Birding with BillBow (a play on his grandpa Bill Bowler and Bilbo Baggins) Substack. In his inaugural post, “Is This Good for Birds?,” Nate takes us through his day as he wonders what each of his actions do (and don’t do) to benefit birds. He donates 5% of all proceeds from his Substack to the American Birding Association (they’re very good for birds—and for the environment as a whole). We decided to launch Birding with BillBow on his birthday because there’s a special energy to birthdays. To capitalize on that energy, I wrote Nate’s birthday card as a spell. The cover said, “Open with care for within you will find some witchy words.” Not my most lyrical wording but… you could say it worked.

A man (Nathaniel Bowler) and a woman (Alexandra Hidalgo) sit together on a deck. Her arm is draped over his shoulder as she laughs at what he’s reading aloud, which is the cover for a card that says in black handwriting “OPEN WITH CARE.” To his right there is a colorful gift back that says “HAPPY BIRTHDAY.” At their feet there are leaves. Behind them there are tall trees and grass. It is an early fall, sunny afternoon. — Our birthday boy amused by my witchy card’s cover. (Photo by William Hidalgo-Bowler).

Nate read the card and opened the gift, which contained a vintage 1970s gnome for our garden. As he removed the gnome from the gift bag, two huge branches fell on our neighbor’s yard, although there was no wind. The branches missed our neighbor’s shed by an inch or two, landing and rattling loudly like the world was ending. But it wasn’t. It was beginning. At least Birding with BillBow was—and as beginnings go, this felt like a magical one. There will no doubt be twists and turns and, yes, precipitous descents, but this feels like the beginning of something magical. Please join us in doing what’s good for birds (and the world that sustains them and us) by subscribing to Nate’s Substack. William, Santiago, Nate, our gnome, and I will be exceedingly grateful!

On the earth, surrounded by plants and fallen leaves, lies the figurine of a vintage, 1970s garden gnome. He is asleep, his hand interlaced over his abdomen, his legs crossed. His outfit is green and his beard white. He seems content. Next to him, there is a clay plate with water and three rocks. It is an early fall, sunny afternoon. — Our gnome. Sweet, sleepy, magical. (Photo by Alexandra Hidalgo).

Unearthed Photo

There is a woman and two boys dressed like the family from the Incredibles with red outfits and black masks, a boy dressed like Harry Potter with a robe, glasses, and a wand, a girl dressed like Belle from Beauty and the Beast with a yellow dress, and a woman dressed like a unicorn in white and with a horn and ears. They all stand together smiling at the camera with red leaves behind them. It is a late fall, cloudy afternoon. — Incredible families, magic boys, spirited princesses, and smiling unicorns. (Photo by Nathaniel Bowler).

Like gardens and creative endeavors, having children has its ups and downs, and one of the highs for me has always been Halloween. I grew up in Venezuela, where carnival celebrations were our dressing-up ritual. Carnival was magnificent in every way, but I was still fascinated by the trick-or-treating adventures I saw on screens big (ET! Karate Kid!) and small (Punky Brewster! ALF!). I have spent the last 12 years revisiting the childhood trick-or-treating adventures I never had (but sure dreamt of) with our boys. We took some of the most spectacular of those journeys with our friends Ben and Liz and their kids Austen and Addie. No, the dads didn’t dress up. Yes, the moms always did.

On this, our most epic Halloween, we went to Ms. Erin’s house. Miss Erin taught at the Montessori school our kids attended, and she’d lovingly and patiently nurtured William and Santiago in her classroom. Miss Erin’s husband took Halloween to a whole new level, blending art, whimsy, and yes, scares. I can’t imagine there are too many downs with a project like his. But then again, I’ve never done anything like it. I will, though, always remember experiencing it. Sometimes you make something spectacular that forever lingers in the memories of neighbors, students, and strangers:

Stories that Transfixed Me (and May Transfix You)

Beetlejuice Beetlejuice, directed by Tim Burton

The original didn’t have a trick-or-treating scene, but the sequel does, and they turn the Halloween experience into something witty, raunchy, and just poignant enough to make you root for these beloved characters, even Beetlejuice (Michael Keaton) himself. If you didn’t watch the original, this is your chance to get lost in one of Tim Burton’s funniest and most endearingly weird worlds. This delightful new romp expands the original story without losing track of its heart. We do have new characters (you’re always welcome, Jenna Ortega, Monica Bellucci, and Willem Dafoe!), but it all still comes together in a satisfying and moving way. It’s part nostalgic, part new, and all fun.

Only Murders in the Building, created by Steve Martin and John Hoffman

One of the joys of parenting has been getting to discover new shows with the boys. Yes, we are all diehard fans of The Office, but that was a show Nate and I rewatched with the boys, so he and I already knew what would happen. Only Murders, though, is a show we’re all experiencing together for the first time, which means we get to laugh, gasp, and guess about the twists and turns as we watch Charles (Steve Martin), Oliver (Martin Short) and Mabel (Selena Gomez) stumble (yet ultimately prevail) as our favorite slightly inept but commendably intrepid podcasting/murder-solving trio. William so far has the best instincts for their dubious yet (at least in the show) fun occupation. Nothing like seeing your kid display a sharper-than-your-own understanding of the intricacies of storytelling to make writer parents, like us, happy. Whether you enjoy it with your favorite people or on your own, do check out Only Murders. It’s the perfect blend of goofy laughter and gripping suspense.

Your Turn

What projects are you launching or have launched lately? Do they feel magic or a little stuck? Let us know what they are, and we’ll run them by our gnome for luck. We should name our gnome now that I think of it. Suggestions welcome!

Love in Many Genres

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