We tend to judge people on their ability to contribute to the economy, and we judge this on, the size of their home, the clothes they wear, the car they drive, the exotic holidays they enjoy. Their material success.

Our economic system is set up to value status. This economic system is set up to value things that make us happy in the short term, so we end up on an endless hamster wheel of striving for more. This economic system is set up to keep our economic systems running. But who we are, is at odds with what society tells us to be, so we are never content. We have an insatiable need to strive for more, have more, be more, more likes, more clicks, more material success. More. The quest becomes for more.

We class ordinary lives as not extraordinary, but it's not until we face hardship, such as loss of a loved one, or a serious illness, that we want the ordinary moments, the familiar sound of footsteps, the smell of freshly baked bread, the cup of tea shared.

We need new measures for success systems around us. A system that includes kindness, compassion and connection. a system that prioritises the happiness of children over academic results. A system that includes nature and its needs in all our decisions.

Take a small child for a walk, and every ordinary detail is extraordinary. A small rock, a dandelion, a trail of ants. When we see the world through a child's eyes, we can savour the ordinary moments of our lives; the intricate pattern of a spider's web, the detail within a flower, the sound of children giggling, the smell of freshly cut grass, a cast of a million stars. We find this is where happiness lives, and this amounts to an extraordinary life, one ordinary moment at a time.

And like our lives, we tend to judge forests on trees and their ability to contribute to the economy, and we judge this on their size, their shape, their trunk, their look. But these giants are there as part of a system of so-called ordinary understorey plants doing extraordinary things, that benefit the whole forest society, keeping it healthy.

But we class these ordinary plants as not extraordinary. It's not until the forest faces a hardship such as death of trees, or a serious disease that we appreciate these ordinary plants are the key to a healthy forest, which amounts to an extraordinary forest, one ordinary plant at a time.

When we can see a forest through the eyes of a small child, and savour the ordinary plants, the intricate web of nature, the detail within each flower, the sounds of insects, birds and animals that live there, the smell of freshness after the rain, a cast of a million inhabitants. We find this is where happiness lives, and this amounts to an extraordinary forest, one ordinary plant at a time.

Native Violets Viola hederacea, create the most beautiful pharmacy shop you could ever enter, Violets create a stunning ground cover of deep green, fan shaped leaves, with masses of purple and white flowers. It loves to grow in damp places, but will also grow on the dry , exposed rocky hills in the Midlands. It is frost hardy, and grows in full sun or shade. It can make a beautiful substitute lawn, ideal for small gardens, but you may need stepping stones where there is a lot of foot traffic.

Native Violet leaves can be eaten and used as a thickener substitute, a tea, or steamed, sauteed or stirred into dishes of your choice. Violet flowers are also edible, for a dash of colour or fragrance to add to your presentation of savoury dishes, salads, or desserts. The flowers can be crystallized for decorating cakes and desserts or frozen into ice blocks to use in drinks for that wow factor.

So why are Native Violets a pharmacy?

According to Dr Karen Bridgman of Lotus Health in Neutral Bay, there are many therapeutic uses for Native Violets, with the leaves containing greater medicinal benefits than the flowers. The leaves have been shown to contain phenolic glycosides, saponins, flavonoids, rutin, quercetin, alkaloids, mucilage, tannins and salicylates as well as vitamin A and C. According to Dr Bridgman with its anti-inflammatory and mucilaginous properties, violet tea sweetened with raw honey can relieve coughs and bronchitis. The mucilaginous properties of violet leaf tea also soothe the gut and its prebiotic properties helps to restore healthy populations of beneficial bacteria in the gut. The flavonoids, quercetin and rutin are traditional remedies to strengthen blood vessel walls to reduce hemorrhoids and varicose veins. These can be treated by taking a tea internally, or by making a cream, or infused oil to use externally. Native Violet leaves have the potential role in stimulating and potentially detoxifying the lymphatic system. And if that's not enough, Dr Bergman says, violet leaf preparations can be used as a wash to relieve the distressing symptoms of eczema or dermatitis. She suggests using the leaves and making them into a cream, or infused oil, to relieve dry or chafed skin, abrasions and insect bites.

So, with all these amazing health benefits, perhaps it's time to sit back and relax with a cuppa, made with the leaves of Native Violet, and just enjoy its mild peppery taste. And in the back of our mind, we know it's doing us the power of good.                     

,Native gardens attract birds of every size, but it seems strange, that this mismatched choir is so enticing. There really isn't one bird I would sign up for a position in a musical, not one singer holds a tune, completes a song, or even has a catchy ditty that gets stuck in my head. They seem blissful in their ignorance, singing makes them happy, and that is enough. It's happiness I hear, like children giggling, so infectious it makes me smile. Birds chatter away about the delights of the day, as they busy themselves, poking their beaks into flowers, or picking around the windows, looking for spiders lurking in the wooden cracks. Yes the magpies warble in the morning, warbling their same chorus line, the wrens gossip all day about absolutely everything, and the crows have a long ah-haaaaaaaaaaaw on a lovely hot day. The Joe Wickies sing out to their mate and she replies, "Yes I'm over here." If you mimic the call, you get a reply, and so a conversation with a new bird friend has begun. Perhaps it's about singing as they work, gathering food for themselves and their young. Singing makes light work.

I cared for a Currawong chick who had fallen out of his nest, a tiny ball of fluff. I searched for worms and brought them back. It didn't satisfy my new baby, whom I called Merrick. I searched for more worms using a spade, it didn't satisfy my ungrateful fluffy child. I dug up a garden bed gathering worms on an hourly basis, but it didn't satisfy this demanding squawking child. This gathering of worms was a full-time job, and I was exhausted. I had only one tiny fluffy baby to feed, but the squawking of complaints after every feed, said my efforts were simply not enough. I had a new found admiration of bird parents  with twins and triplets. I certainly wasn't singing as I worked, I was muttering and grumbling, a worn out exhausted new mum. To satisfy my ungrateful, squawking, complaining child, I cheated and went to the supermarket. I followed a recipe in a bird book, using mince and eggs, and it worked a treat. He didn't cry after feeds, no complaints, just a beautiful happy child. With a happy mum. Merrick grew, and he grew. His fluff turned to shiny black feathers, which he showed off, flying around the kitchen, this massive budgerigar, with a wing span of half a metre. We learnt to duck quickly when we heard a woosh woosh of flapping wings behind us, and gave him room to land and take off, in his cramped airport kitchen. He chatted to us, and we chatted back, a bird conversation of sorts to a much loved child. As with all children, he flew the nest, but with his departure, I realised he had written his musical score on my heart. For me, the most endearing bird song ever sung.