....color

Yogis,

I think it began with an ad on my Facebook feed. Or maybe that is when I first noticed. A woman is setting a table. As she lifts a flowered tablecloth, it is caught by a breeze and spreads over the table. A nostalgic paisley print that could have been on my nana’s table at one time.

It caught my eye because it had color.

Then my 20^th Pottery Barn catalog of 2026 arrived. Typically, I fan the pages before heading to the bin. This one was different. The bedroom on the front cover had a floral duvet and curtains…..and green wallpaper! This time I sat down and went through page by page.

Upholstery, pillows and dinnerware in multiple hues of blues and greens. Flowers in vases and butterfly patterns on napkins. Be still my heart.

A reel on Instagram knew exactly what I was thinking (scary isn’t it?) and asked ‘when did the world lose its color.’

I looked it up and the aesthetics of palettes in beige, then gray and evolving to ‘greige’ in home décor began twenty years ago. New homes built are white and black. There are many theories. One is that our digital world is so bright, colorful and fast paced that we look for its absence in our refuge.

Yet everything changes if you give it time. Could it be happening?

My personal taste has always been for some color. When we moved into this house everyone expected me to paint the great room, with its expansive walls and sky high ceiling, a shade of white. No. I selected deep butterscotch. My architect rolled his eyes but I love it to this day. To me, walking into a room with a peaceful color is like getting a hug. Warm. Cozy.

My sister and I were reminiscing about the cars we learned to drive on. Funny stories surfaced about the navy blue Ford LTD we each got to have turns with. She was boat sized and had a ruby red interior. Pulling the front bench seat up made the back seat big enough for a party. So, of course, there was one.

Maybe in these times we need the return of color.

Om,
SARAH

.....the return

Yogis,
They are coming back! One by one they show up. A peek of green here… a flash of yellow there. Buds begin to swell on stems that have sat bare for months.

My plant friends are beginning to return. Friends? What makes someone or something a friend? 

For me friends should be dependable companions and good listeners. Check. I can count on echinacea to return year after year. I move a handful of leaves the third week of March, and there she is, waving up from the ground. She will be with me in the garden until I once again need a sweater.

Hi! Great to see you!

Friends should uplift you when you are low. So many of them come to mind here. Zinnias, lemon balm and snapdragon. Bright and cheerful yet never overbearing or taking themselves too seriously. 

They should bring calm when you are anxious. No one does this better than lavender. She is a quiet presence. Her soft leaves and simple flowers make life seem a bit easier. Less complicated. And her fragrance pulls me to bury my nose and take a full breath. Ahhhh.

And good friends are low maintenance and helpful. Great blue lobelia fits the bill nicely. As a native she shows up each spring. Her needs are low even on the driest days of summer and she spreads her seeds prolifically. Gifting me with more plants at no cost!

At the end of the day, the foundation of a solid friendship is when it is built on a reciprocal relationship. Everything about nature involves reciprocity, if you allow it. I help keep the soil healthy, remove invasives, offer water and give them my attention. In return I receive beauty, oxygen and butterflies. Herbs for my salts. Cuttings for my vases. The more I give, the more I get back……. Plants surprise me with an arrival. Mint offers to flavor my water after an hour of sweaty weeding.

I touch their leaves, talk to them openly and truly enjoy their company. Yes, they are friends and I am happy to see them again!

Don’t even get me going on my bug friends,
SARAH 

...it's not time

Yogis,
I really should practice what I preach.

Each March I share with anyone who will listen what I learned about what should be done in the yard/garden at this stage. In a nutshell, not a lot.

The bugs, butterflies and bees have their eggs buried beneath the fallen leaves, along dried plant stems and in wood piles. Many even overwinter themselves nestled into these areas. Rake and clean up too early and you are removing all of the biodiversity from your own little slice of nature.

This is also the time where birds and squirrels are feeding on the dried berries, nuts and seeds on last year’s growth to build strength and gathering dried leaves and brush to start preparing homes for their soon to arrive offspring. Taking it all away means they have no reason to settle there.

Yet on our first balmy day as I opened the windows to smell the earth the urge to ‘clean up’ hit hard. Well, I’ll just pull some of the invasives before they begin to grow again in earnest, I told myself.

Down on my knees I go as I pull the vinca I had planted in the early days before I knew of her desire to overreach. Reaching in I move the layer of fallen leaves and dig my fingernails beneath the dirt to be sure to get each section by the root. I’m almost done and feeling so productive when I feel a thorn in my finger. In a blink of an eye I know it isn’t a thorn. I pull my hand out to find a poor lethargic bee attached, doing her best to send me away.

It worked and my fingers felt like sausages in tight casings for several days. I apologized and tucked her back in.

It is still winter.

I go back to doing what can be done now. Picking up fallen sticks on the lawn. Trimming back old leaves on the Lenten rose plants. My earliest bloomer. Walking around to remind myself who I have and where I spread seeds in fall. And visualizing what is to come.

It’s not time yet,
SARAH

....feed the soul

Yogis,
I’m floating on my back. Arms stretched wide and legs long. Sun shining on my face and belly. The water is warm and calm. So dense with salt that no effort is required on my part. I lie weightless.

My ears are submerged, muffling the outside world. I can hear voices in the distance but they are garbled, yet the sound of my own breath is strong and clear. A steady rhythm. I am at peace.

My annual trip to the Virgin Islands feeds my soul.

It isn’t just the beauty….although there is an abundance. It isn’t only the warmth that wraps its arms around me as I take that first step off the plane. Or the gentle breezes that brush my winter weary skin. It’s all of that and so much more.

Every single thing about the trip brings me inner joy. I declared on day three that even my hair was happy to be there! Sun kissed and filled with salt. My legs love the morning hikes up cactus laden hills. My toes rejoice in being sandy. My sleep deep as the sea sings her song.

And the stars. Oh the stars……  Reminding me how small I am but how wide and wonderful the world is.

The rainbows, strolling wild donkeys and cows, conches on the ocean floor, lobster and fresh caught fish at meals, Carib, hummingbirds and orchids. All of it.

We all have places or things that remind us of who we are and make our soul sing. Others for me are having my hands in the dirt, sitting on the porch watching an incoming storm, smelling a lavender plant, witnessing a sunrise.

It’s important that we know what ours are and make the time for them in this busy life. They make all the difference on us being fulfilled.

What nourishes your soul?

Feeling full,
SARAH