We first dug our shovels into this little plot of land three years ago, just days after we discovered I was pregnant. A country girl committed to the city, I was desperate for a place to spread some seeds and watch them grow. That winter was filled with longing; for soil covered fingers, tiny green sprouts, and a sweet baby to call our own. And then with spring, these deepest hopes came to pass, a garden and a baby boy growing side by side. It felt like a miracle, a blessing too good to be real, and a happiness I wasn't entirely sure that I deserved.
And now we're welcoming this spring's slow start in our family garden. That baby boy is a little man, helping his father ready the beds and so excited to be given projects all his own. I'm dreaming of what and where we'll plant, sketching away with our little girl dancing in my belly. This season is always a time for fresh starts and new life, and I'm deeply grateful for our wealth of simple joys this year.