This week, Samantha reflects on the surprising wisdom hidden in the chaotic, mesmerizing murmations of European starlings. Just like these birds move through the sky without a set path — tightening, expanding, shifting in response to unseen forces — our lives often unfold in the same swirling, unpredictable way.

Between winter heaviness, endless notification fatigue, and the emotional load of parenting (hello, SSAT season), the days can feel messy and directionless. But starlings return to two reliable anchor points every day: dawn and dusk, departure and roost. Samantha explores how we can find our own anchors — the routines, rituals, and moments that keep us grounded when life feels overwhelming.

Along the way, she shares the unexpected beauty of a lone starling in her yard, the history of how these birds arrived in America, and why looking up at the sky has always helped humans find their way.

Listen if you’re craving:Calm in chaos • winter grounding • sky medicine • nature as metaphor • a deep breath

Audio Credits:Common Starling call courtesy of: Sonothèque ADVL, XC934628. Accessible at www.xeno-canto.org/934628.

License: Creative Commons Public Domain Dedication 1.0

November has a way of turning every day into an improvised obstacle course. You start the morning with a plan—simple, linear, achievable. And then suddenly you’re vaulting over school emails, leaping around rescheduled appointments, and dodging the relentless notifications that somehow always arrive at the exact wrong moment.

It’s not just busy. It’s parkour.The untrained, mildly chaotic kind.

And yet—this is also the time of year when nature is quietly doing its own kind of parkour, too. The squirrels in our yard have reached peak acrobat mode, launching themselves across branches like tiny woodland stunt doubles. They’re quick, nimble, determined…and absolutely forgetful.

Researchers estimate that squirrels forget a significant portion of the nuts they bury—little pockets of intention scattered everywhere. But here’s the surprising part: the things they lose end up becoming the forests we later walk through. Their forgetfulness turns into renewal. Their misplaced acorns become maples and oaks. Their “oops” moments become canopy.

I’ve been thinking a lot about that.

Because every November, I find myself misplacing things—keys, earbuds, my sense of time, sometimes my entire train of thought. Just trying not to do a face plant into the holidays.

Every day our phones send us tiny digital bells. There are pings and reminders intended to grab our attention at any given moment. They pile up sometimes, and just as quickly, get swiped away. The notification bells of our lives are often a nuisance.

Seen…gone. Noticed? Not really.

Episode 7 of The Flutter By Effect dives into a strange little truth I’ve been wrestling with: notifications were originally designed to help us know things. It’s the very origin of the word. But somewhere along the way, we traded knowing for reacting. We traded awareness for urgency. We see it. But do we notice it?

We’re living in a world where our devices constantly ask us to pay attention, yet we’re becoming less able to actually notice anything at all. We want to stay informed, but we’re drowning in so many “important” things that everything starts to blur together. The reflex to swipe away what we “don’t have time for” might be slowly training our brains to notice…less.

Perhaps the rapid swiping and dismissal of the notifications is re-calibrating our brain to stop noticing at all.

And noticing — really noticing — is where you find presence and maybe something you’ve been overlooking. In my garden, the counterweight to this is always the same:one bird, one moment, one pause long enough to take it all in.

Episode 7 is a little love letter to that pause, guided by a red-breasted nuthatch that stole my heart.To the tiny gap between seeing and noticing.To reclaiming attention in a season where everything feels urgent.

And if you want the full expanded essay version — the deeper dive into definitions, attention, and the little moments that grounded me this week — it’ll be up on the blog tomorrow.

Lastly, many thanks to my neighbor Kim for the notification you sent me that night. For without it, this episode would not have be scripted!

With gratitude,Samantha

Audio Credits:Red-breasted nuthatch call courtesy of: Ross Gallardy, XC344953. Accessible at www.xeno-canto.org/344953.

License: Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0