There's one thing I've learned over the years, and that's that projects change. The species, interests, priorities, and often, the people behind them change, too.
Looking back, my journey has been anything but linear. For years, I devoted myself primarily to tropical plants, then came the giant African snails, then the first geckos, the gargoyles, the cresteds, the AFT, the leopard geckos. Each phase has taught me something, each species has taught me something, and I don't regret anything about that journey. In fact, I probably wouldn't be here today without all those experiences.
And yet, at a certain point, I began to realize that something inside me was changing. I realized I was spending more and more time reading about little-known species, observing natural behaviors, and researching information on animals that almost no one seemed to find interesting, and at the same time, less and less time interested in new morphs, new genetic combinations, or new selections.
There's nothing wrong with this approach, I simply realized that it wasn't what really excited me. What fascinated me was something else, it was observing a species for what it is, understanding its behavior, studying its adaptations, reconstructing its microhabitat and learning something I didn't know the day before. Little by little, I began to see my animals differently, not as projects to improve or transform but as species to know and preserve.
It was then that I began to become more and more interested in micro geckos. Many of them are rarely bred, some are almost unknown and others simply risk being ignored because they don't have flashy colors or particularly commercial characteristics. Yet they often hide extraordinary behaviors and incredible evolutionary stories!
The more I learned about them, the more I realized how easy it was for these species to go unnoticed, yet conservation almost always starts with knowledge. It's difficult to protect something that no one knows about or to take an interest in an habitat, an ecosystem or a territory when you don't even know which animals inhabit it. Perhaps this is also why I feel such a strong desire to tell the story of these species.
Every person who discovers a microgecko for the first time is one more person who might be interested in its history, its environment, and the challenges it faces in nature. I don't believe breeding alone can change the world, but I do believe that spreading curiosity and knowledge is one of the first steps towards ensuring that, one day, more and more species and habitats receive the attention and protection they deserve.
I realized that this was where I wanted to invest my time. Not in creating a new color. But in contributing, even in my own small way, to raising awareness of these precious little creatures that already exist.
Today, I still keep some of the species that have been part of my journey because they have taught me too much for me to forget them, but the direction that Atthis' Secret Garden has taken is now clear: it is a direction based on curiosity, observation, and respect for animals and for what they are.
And above all, the belief that even the smallest and least showy species deserve to be seen.
Perhaps this, more than anything else, is the change that has defined my breeding... not a new species, not a new breeding project, not a prospect of fame or profit, but a new way of looking at animals.