Spring is a truly magical time of the year. A season of renewal and joy. It is also time to appreciate your past self for planting bulbs in autumn…Now, as they burst into bloom, they fill the flower beds and pots with beauty and gift you with a celebration of the new season.
This year, spring is a little different for me. At the end of February, I underwent surgery to remove endometrial tissue, an experience that was quite daunting and riddled with anxiety. This has meant that for the first time in a very long time, I have had to slow down and recover. Despite the discomfort and general frustration of being quite confined to my home and garden, It has given me the opportunity to enjoy the start of spring.



The first signs of spring have provided me with so much hope and comfort. We have been incredibly blessed with some beautiful bright (even warm!) spring sunshine. That blissful feeling of the sunbeams warming your skin is soothing and healing and has felt like a gift over the past week. I have been able to sit on the bench in the garden (in my pjs) sipping cups of tea and reading books. I am happiest outside, in the fresh air, listening to the birds, normally gardening or sowing seeds. Sadly I can’t do a lot of lifting or crouching down to tend to the garden at the moment (which is very tempting when the weather is so beautiful!). Anticipating the inevitable cabin fever, I prepared seed trays in advance, filling them with compost, vermiculite, and perlite, ready for sowing. Though hardly a top priority before surgery, I’m so grateful for these little trays—they’ve allowed me to plant vegetable and cut flower seeds for the garden and allotment, keeping my hands busy and my mind engaged as I recover.
More than that, they’ve given me a small but meaningful sense of achievement—something I crave when I’m not working.
One of my aspirations for 2025 was to live more seasonally, guided by my word of the year: recalibrate. When I learned my surgery date, I worried spring would be marked by pain, frustration, and a sense of falling behind. But stepping away from the busyness of work has offered me a new perspective. Like nature, I am awakening slowly, renewing with patience.
Though the year is only three months in, I already feel a sense of recalibration—one I never could have anticipated when setting my intention. It may seem a little self-indulgent, but this realisation has reminded me to be gentle with myself. It’s a cliché, but nature really does offer us endless lessons in how to live a happier, more mindful life.
A great source of joy has been watching my cats embrace the longer, sunnier days. Albus, Percy, and Paddington have been bounding through the garden like little lambs, leaping with delight before sprawling on their backs, sunning their bellies, and tilting their faces toward the warmth. Paddington, in particular, lost all inhibitions—racing in endless loops before rolling around in the sunshine.

Things I am grateful for this spring:
The sound of the dawn chorus whilst sipping a cup of tea in bed.
Cornflower blue skies.
Enjoying the dappled sunshine casting beautiful shadows inside my home. (also highlighting how badly we need to clean our windows!)
Brilliant pastel pink, lilac and blue sunsets.
Clear skies at night, spotting the stars and constellations.
Sowing seeds for the allotment and garden (dreaming of the abundance of sweet peas in the summer!)
Dusting off my sketch book and painting some floral watercolours.
Books, books, books! I love reading but I have found a love of audiobooks whilst recovering, when I don’t feel I have the energy to read but I want to escape a little.
Receiving the most beautiful flowers and cards from my wonderful friends, colleagues and family, the house is filled with blooms and it never fails to make me feel cheerful and so very grateful and loved! - A special shoutout to my best friend, who completely out of the blue surprised me the day after my surgery with gifts and flowers and one of the best hugs I have received! I can’t even put into words how much love I felt in that moment—it was pure warmth and I kindness I don’t think I will ever forget.
A more personal one, I feel this might be a (sort of) start of a renewal. I have struggled to get a diagnosis for my health issues for almost nine years (Sadly, this is often the case with endometriosis). Finally getting answers and treatment has felt bittersweet. It has made me feel grateful for my bodies resilience and ability to heal.
I am grateful for the wonderful team at the Women’s Hospital who provided the care I needed.
Basically living in cosy clothing, mainly pyjamas (slightly concerned I will never be able to wear jeans again.)
Mini eggs, tis the season! (Perhaps I will never actually fit into my jeans again…)
I won’t deny that I have tried to romanticise my current situation and have I have chosen to focus on the positives. I suppose I am forcing myself to do this as a way of coping. I won’t deny that not every day is blue skies, flowers, seed sowing and endless joy and gratitude. Mixed in with the small joys are what feel like big worries. Fears of further health issues, doubts about healing, trouble sleeping, pain and discomfort, the trap of doom-scrolling, frustration toward the medical professionals who dismissed my symptoms, and the weight of isolation, loneliness, and, at times, a little too much self-pity.
It’s easy to dwell on the negatives, effortless even. Finding the silver linings takes far more intention.
I hope you are also enjoying the start of spring and taking the time (whether enforced or not) to observe the changing seasons and find some little snippets of joy.
I would love to hear about the things you are most grateful for at the start of spring.
What are your favourite seeds to start in the spring?
What has bought you joy so far this spring?
I’m so glad your garden brings you and your cats such joy at this time. Mother Nature right?