It's almost March, and signs of life are all around. The red hammock is ready to hold a reader with a book on a warm spring day. "Volunteer" herbs sprout in unlikely, unplanned places, a forgotten Tiger Lily surfaces from a hidden bulb. Spring is pushing forth. Remember me? she says.

At this moment, I'm thankful to have a sunny spot in the back yard to spend my lunch break. I stare hopefully at my wildflower bed, willing those seeds to start sprouting by Saturday. The packet said 7 days....

Meanwhile, it seems that everything, including my body, wants to shed the heaviness of winter. Sweet potato soup for lunch seemed too dense, too filling. I ate a few bites and turned instead to a bowl of fresh, juicy grapefruit, with a drizzle of agave nectar, a sprinkle of sea salt, and a few scoops of coconut cream. {Remember when I learned to love grapefruit?} Tomorrow, it might be mango for breakfast.

Spring beckons you to both speed up and slow down: Get up, get out, start moving again. Start putting your hands in the soil or your feet on the sidewalk. And then stop long enough to see what's becoming all around you. I hope I never forget to see the changing of the seasons or how our bodies and souls coincide with it. I hope I never stop reminding myself.

So let's take a walk around the yard, and see what we can find.

Thyme - it pretty much survives anything. I haven't as much as touched it all winter, and here it is, growing new leaves with a vengeance.

Some Forget-Me-Not's in an old tin pail-turned-planter...