Saying Goodbye to 2025: What This Year Taught Me

As 2025 comes to a close, I find myself reflecting not on how much I produced, but on how much I noticed.

This year wasn’t about chasing milestones or measuring success by numbers. It was quieter than that. Slower. More rooted. And in many ways, more meaningful.

2025 taught me that growth doesn’t always announce itself loudly. Sometimes it happens in stillness — in returning to the same places, watching the same animals, and allowing presence to matter more than momentum.

One of the biggest lessons of 2025 was learning to stay close to what’s already here.

I didn’t travel far this year. Instead, I returned again and again to local parks, shorelines, and familiar paths. I watched urban wildlife live their lives alongside ours — adapting, enduring, thriving in small pockets of green.

What I learned is this:

• You don’t need distance to find wonder.

• You need attention.

By staying local, I deepened my relationship with place. I began to recognize individual animals, patterns of behaviour, and the subtle changes that happen across seasons. Wildlife stopped feeling like something I was “capturing” and became something I was in relationship with.

Becoming a Storyteller, Not Just a Photographer

2025 marked a shift in how I approach my creative work.

I moved from simply documenting wildlife to telling stories — stories about coexistence, resilience, and the quiet lives unfolding in urban spaces. Through my videos and writing, I began to focus less on perfection and more on honesty.

I learned that:

• A moment doesn’t have to be dramatic to be meaningful

• Stillness can carry a story

• Silence can be part of the narrative

• Letting go of the pressure to perform allowed my work to feel more aligned — and more true.

I enrolled in Bee School and became a Master Melittologist Apprentice! I committed to learning more about pollinators by enrolling in Bee School—a step toward strengthening my conservation knowledge and ensuring my storytelling is rooted in science as well as heart.

Creating My First Urban Wildlife Documentary

2025 also marked the completion of my first urban wildlife documentary, focused on Great Blue Herons.

This project asked more of me than I expected — not just creatively, but emotionally. It required patience, observation, and a willingness to let the story unfold on its own timeline. I learned that documenting wildlife isn’t about control; it’s about trust.

There were moments of uncertainty along the way — moments where I wondered if I was doing justice to these birds, or if I was ready to take on a longer-form story. But staying with the process taught me something important: respect comes from slowing down and listening.

Creating this documentary deepened my appreciation for Great Blue Herons and for the resilience of wildlife living in urban spaces. More than anything, it affirmed that this kind of storytelling — quiet, observant, and rooted in place — is the work I want to keep doing.

Seeing My Work in Print

In 2025, I also had the opportunity to see my photographs published alongside written articles in local magazines.

Seeing my work in print was quietly affirming — not as a marker of achievement, but as a reminder that stories about local wildlife and everyday conservation do resonate. It reinforced my belief that paying attention to what lives around us matters, and that these small, local stories are worth telling

Letting Grief Inform, Not Define

Grief didn’t disappear in 2025 — but it softened.

Instead of being the centre of my work, it became part of the lens through which I see the world: slower, gentler, more reverent. Wildlife taught me how to keep going without rushing, how to adapt without losing myself, and how to exist fully in the present moment.

This year reminded me that healing isn’t about moving on — it’s about learning how to move with what we carry.

Choosing Meaning Over Noise

Another quiet lesson of 2025 was learning to value meaning over validation.

I stopped asking whether something would “perform well” and started asking whether it felt aligned. I focused on building something sustainable rather than chasing attention. I trusted that depth would find its audience in time.

This shift brought a sense of peace I didn’t know I was missing.

I launched my Urban Wildlife eGuides. Check out the eGuides tab on my website to get a copy and participate on Instagram.

Stepping Into Something New

Another meaningful step for me in 2025 was launching my YouTube Shorts.

I’ll be honest — I was nervous. Putting my work out into the world in a new format felt vulnerable, and I wasn’t sure how it would be received. But something unexpected happened once I started: it became fun.

Creating short-form videos gave me the chance to revisit moments I had captured over the year — small interactions, quiet behaviours, fleeting expressions of wild lives in the city. Looking back at my footage reminded me just how much I had seen, learned, and experienced.

What started as nerves turned into play. And what started as hesitation turned into appreciation — for the work itself, and for the journey behind it.

What I’m Carrying Forward

As I say goodbye to 2025, I’m carrying these lessons with me:

• Pay attention — it’s an act of care

• Protect what you love, even when it’s overlooked

• Let your work reflect who you are, not who you think you should be

• Trust slow growth

• Stay rooted

2025 didn’t push me forward — it grounded me. And that grounding feels like a gift.

So here’s my goodbye to 2025.

Thank you for the stillness.

Thank you for the lessons in patience and presence.

Thank you for reminding me that there is meaning in the small, the local, and the ordinary.

I’m stepping into the next year with clarity, intention, and a deep appreciation for the wild lives that continue all around us — often unnoticed, always deserving of care.

Here’s to carrying that awareness forward.