Momma Bear's Porch Notes

Grief, folklore, and why we still watch the sky There is an old instinct that wakes up inside people after loss. It doesn’t come from therapy books. It doesn’t come from science. It comes from somewhere much older—the same place that once made humans whisper to forests, read bird flight like letters, and treat a sudden wind as a message. It is the instinct to look for signs. If you have lost someone you love, you know exactly what I mean. You notice things you never notic

There are moments in running a small business that feel less like milestones and more like being gently tapped on the shoulder by something bigger than you. Becoming a Maine Made member is one of those moments for me. Momma Bear’s Wild Things is truly rooted here. Not just “based in Maine” on paper, but shaped by the seasons, the land, the pace, and the people. This work grew out of quiet afternoons, kitchen tables, gardens, loss, love, and the slow, careful act of making so

Before emojis, memes, and text messages, the Victorians found meaning in petals, stems, and leaves. Pressed flowers—delicate remnants of...

In an age of overnight shipping and click-to-cart convenience, you’d think the quaint charm of the old country store would be long...

There’s something sacred about wild things. Not just the ones that grow beyond fences, but the ones that live inside us—the unkept, the...

There’s a reason we step outside when the world feels too heavy. A reason why our hands reach for something living—soft petals, cool...