I didn't become interested in nature because I set out to.

I became interested in nature because I had children.

Before becoming a mom, I was the kind of person who was early to everything. Then my oldest son was born, and suddenly it took thirty minutes—and sometimes two diaper changes—just to get out the door.

Everything felt painfully slow.

I used to call that first year the year we watched the leaves change.

Not because I planned to, but because we were outside almost every day. We'd sit on the front steps, take slow walks through the neighborhood, and spend far more time noticing the world than rushing through it.

In that unexpected slowness, I realized three things.

My son loved being outside.

So did I.

And there was an entire world I had somehow spent decades walking past without really seeing.

A few years later, during the pandemic, I started paying attention to birds. At first they were just birds. Then I learned to recognize the red-tailed hawks by the way they circled overhead and the turkey vultures by their wobbly flight. I noticed when certain flowers bloomed, where turtles liked to sun themselves, and how much life was happening in places I'd driven past hundreds of times.

As my boys grew, we joined a forest school and completed 1,000 Hours Outside each year. I bought my first pair of hiking boots, and the first camping trip we ever took the kids on was also my first camping trip. The more time we spent outdoors, the more fun our days became. We asked more questions. We read more trail signs. We came home with pockets full of rocks and twigs—and stories we wanted to remember.

It wasn't that my children saw a different world. They simply took the time to notice the things I'd learned to filter out.

That realization changed the way I thought about learning.

I had already spent more than a decade in education. I taught English, became a reading teacher, worked in education reform, and later immersed myself in structured literacy and Orton-Gillingham because I wanted to better understand how children learn to read.

I'd always believed reading was about more than school. Reading gives children access to ideas, stories, and perspectives beyond their own experiences. It expands what they know, what they can imagine, and the choices they'll one day have.

But somewhere along the way, I realized I had been thinking about reading too narrowly.

As a reading teacher, I had spent years helping children notice the details inside words.

As a parent, I discovered the joy of helping children notice the details in the world.

Eventually, I realized those weren't separate skills at all.

That's where Nahlo began.

Today, everything we create grows from that realization. Reading helps children notice language. Exploring helps them notice the world. Writing helps them share their own experiences and perspectives. Together, those habits build curious learners, confident readers, and thoughtful observers.

I hope Nahlo inspires your family to slow down, read together, explore often, and discover that the world is full of wonder.

With wonder,

Brittany Spatz
Founder, Nahlo