04/30/2026
Two hundred species on your half-acre. You've met maybe twelve.
You know the robin, the cardinal, the squirrel. You've seen the rabbit at dusk and the hawk overhead. That's five. You might recognize the chickadee, the blue jay, the chipmunk, the crow, the mourning dove, the house finch, the sparrow. That's twelve.
The other hundred and eighty-eight are here too. They're in the soil, under the bark, inside the leaf litter, along the foundation, in the gutter downspout, beneath every rock and board.
Over a hundred species of insects. Several dozen species of spiders. A handful of amphibians and reptiles. Fungi you can't see. Bacteria you can't count. Nematodes by the millions. Mites by the hundreds of thousands.
Your half-acre is not a lawn with some birds on it. It's a biological station running twenty-four hours a day with a roster deeper than most parks.
You've been mowing the office. Two hundred employees. You know twelve of them by name. 🌿