If I had to pick a favorite season, it would be fall. The smell of wet leaves, the cooling air, the shift toward slower living—hot drinks, cozy sweaters, and comfort food. Blissful.
But if I’m honest, I find something to love in every season, especially when it gives me an excuse to spend time outdoors. Still, spring will always be a close second. When the snow finally melts and the first flowers begin to bloom, it feels like the world is waking up again. It’s an exciting, hopeful time.
Since moving into our home, I’ve slowly been shaping and adding to the landscape. Last weekend, I set up my little pop-up greenhouse, and already my hellebores have begun to bloom. Alongside tulips and daffodils, they’re my quiet harbingers of spring. Soon, the flowering trees will follow, bursting open in soft clouds of color.
This time of year always pulls me back into the garden. Though it’s still early, I’ve started clearing away last season’s leaves and fertilizing the beds. On warmer days, I bring my indoor seedlings outside to soak up the sun. Once the nights grow milder, they’ll transition to the greenhouse for a while before finally being planted into the earth.
Gardening is, without question, a labor of love. Over the past few days alone, I’ve spent more than six hours working outside. It can be physically demanding—sometimes even backbreaking—but deeply rewarding. On gentle, sunny mornings, just warm enough for sweaters, my husband and I sit in our little coffee nook, watching birds gather at the feeders.
Each year, the garden grows along with us. Plants and shrubs stretch a little taller, fill out a little more. And sometimes, nature surprises us. Back when we lived in our condo, we once had a baby raccoon take up residence under our BBQ cover. For a full week, he lounged on top, basking in the sun, only stirring in the late afternoon. After his departure, our dog, of course, spent the next month thoroughly inspecting the balcony every time we came home.
Gardening has taught me patience in the most tangible way. Small, consistent efforts—often unnoticed at first—eventually lead to something truly beautiful. My asparagus crowns and peonies took years to establish, but now they bring me so much joy. During the growing season, stepping outside for a daily garden tour—collecting fresh produce or cutting flowers—has become a simple ritual that fills me with a quiet sense of fulfillment.
No matter how small your space, there’s always room to grow something. A few herbs, a pot of flowers—just a small pop of color can make all the difference.
