Many years ago, crewel embroidery became a bit of a hobby fad among the young women of my set. At the time, there would be an hour or two to stitch after my toddlers were in bed. Needlework kept my hands busy while I watched television. It took patience and perseverance, but over time chain and satin stiches, seed stitches, lazy daisies and French knots filled in the picture with colourful wool. I wanted to take pride in my work, and so the stitches on the back were as neatly finished off as those in the front. Which was important, because eventually I became a sales rep for Creative Circle, a company that encouraged buyers to host their own parties. Samples would be brought and passed along, attendees would be taught basic embroidery stitches, and (hopefully) would buy a kit.
Over time, I accumulated a number of canvases, stitched some for others, kept some. A number of finished works were taken from their frame and stored away. Once in retirement, I determined to use my newfound leisure to finish up abandoned sewing/knitting/crocheting/stitchery projects. Others were donated to the local thrift store.
I couldn’t part with the Woodland Creatures project because the playful scene evoked a more innocent time of babyhood and early childhood. It had required investment of time and some complicated stitch patterns. It met the Marie Kondo requirement for decluttering – to keep only the things that sparked joy.
Last weekend, I came out to our patio, only to startle a little bunny intent on exploring our flower garden. He was too young to realize that he should hop away from danger, and I was able to snap a quick photo. 
Pondering this, I realized that every creature represented on my stitchery currently lives on our woodland property. They seem to be fairly happy about the freedom they enjoy here. As with everything, there is a downside: the bunnies nibble at garden produce, the deer eat the tulips, the raccoon used the deck for its toilet until we gated it, the squirrels make valiant efforts to climb the birdfeeder pole to get at birdseed.
Life can be messier than art, but has its own enchanting rewards. This is our sanctuary, and kindness would dictate that safe haven also be extended to our resident furry and feathered friends, the real woodland creatures around us.
