While spring seems to have waved a hello and as quickly vanished in my little corner of Michigan, the garden is starting to pull itself into life even if the days are grey overhead. Every corner is filled with promise, a hit of a red petal from a tulip, a bright and bold yellow of a daffodil head banging in the breeze. Peer out of the front window and you'll glimpse the pinky shades of an opening head of Magnolia tree blossom, a tree buzzing with the life of sparrows, finches and squirrels. The lawn, once brown from being buried under a mountain of snow, the pecking ground for robins who bathe and splash in my bird bath. A veg patch has been ranked, multicoloured carrots, radishes and onions making the soil their new home. Wild flower seeds finding their feet in the weeded soil. Kitchen windowsills are aching under the weight of fifty sunflowers reaching, craving the sun and soil. Not yet little plants, not yet.