It’s the last day of March. It’s too early for the snow to be gone, the ground to be thawed, frigid days to be a thing of the past and buds already revealing themselves! With the added encouragement of the sun and warm whisperings on the air, the urge to burst forth into new life is irresistible. The buds just can’t contain themselves. The draw is too strong this year.

Multiple simultaneous fireworks. Bright magenta and flame red. Such a beautiful process and so refreshing to witness the gradual, drawn out spring of Ontario for the first time in a few years. Spring doesn’t smack you in the face here. It takes its time. It’s alluring and enticing.

This is the first new life I’ve spotted at Gothic Gottage. These silver maple buds (above) look like jellyfish, don’t you think? Now that I’ve noticed the first signs of a big thaw, I’m going to keep a close eye on how new life progresses. I’m already amazed at how much more attention I pay to my surroundings just living alone in the country.

I’m also amazed at how much more attention I pay to my own rhythms. I’ve had some major personal breakthroughs in the past when I’ve struck out on my own. But I think this past month at Gothic Cottage tops them all. Being alone on the farm has given me the peace and tranquility to learn how to really be with myself, how to love myself, and how to open my heart completely to my home, my surroundings and the amazing people in my life. To be clear, I haven’t spent 29 days in complete solitude. I’ve had visitors, left to visit others, had many fantastic phone conversations, e-conversations and even exchanged old fashioned letters. My fabulous circle of friends and family have been an integral part of me bursting to new life.

But it’s also been a glorious feeling to crave returning to my space when I’ve been away for a wee while. To turn down an invitation, or to let the answering machine take a call so I can stay focused on what I’m doing in the moment. I’m very outgoing and quite social, so this is new to me.

I am new to me.

The first day of spring! Even though the temperature has dipped 10 degrees from our warm spell earlier this week life is slowly surfacing.

On a run this evening my neighbor’s horses were taking in the sunset together - spring love. They looked so beautiful in the pink glow and ambled toward me together. (Apologies for the poor photo quality - iPhone had to sub-in as camera) Winter’s cold is thawing and I can feel the love and anticipation in the air with the changing season.

When I was out strolling a few days ago I stopped and stood still. I shut my eyes and let my ears take over. The robins’ songs and a honking Canada geese were prominent at first but then my ears picked up on the life at my feet. All around me the dead grasses were crackling, abuzz with awakening activity. A chorus of bugs and grubs and mice were surfacing to greet spring with aplomb. It was an incredible sensation. One I can relate to.

The Guelph Farmers Market was also heaving with cheerful, energetic people yesterday. My friend Elise and I could barely find a seat to share our breakfast and when we did we were packed onto a picnic bench like sardines. I like the sensation of warm bodies sandwiching me though. And the community feels more close knit when a myriad of conversations are within ear shot and you’re greeted by familiar faces. I left with arms full of local apples, European rye, and flowers to revive Gothic Cottage, which seems to be smiling with the homey touches that are gradually making this space an embracing home. If feels different - cozy. I feel different - more spacious.

The unfurling.

:: nesting

:: finding a hidden stream on a run, splashing my hot face with the icey water, and running back in the 20 degree sunshine with beads of water bouncing on my lashes like little crystal balls

:: long talks and laughs with great friends

:: robin sightings and sweet bird songs

:: exciting projects in the pipeline after productive meetings in Montreal

:: a clothesline chorus line - first of the season

:: the return of hunger and organic meatballs in spicy homemade tomato sauce

:: bright emerald green - I can’t get enough of this colour right now

:: music - so much music but right now it’s Edith Piaf’s beautiful old French tunes warbling through these walls

:: my clawfoot tub brought to life with a coat of lavender AND now complete with shower. A bit girlie, yes, but entirely appropriate don’t you think?

:: a big flower seed order. Poppies and cosmos and morning glory, oh my!

:: the hot sun casting shadows on hardwood

:: a successful skunk eviction with a five-year warranty - good riddance despicable stinkers! - and a spring airing of Gothic Cottage

:: curling into bed at night with David Sedaris’ hilarious tales, chamomile tea, and my Great Grandmother’s quilt (I had no idea they had such funky fabric in the late 30s?!)

As I took a break from this space my journal got heavy play over the past month. I poured my heart out to lined pages and relished the smell of black ink on fresh paper once again. Tears fell and heart ached. But I also blossomed in the ripe atmosphere of the Olympics. The month was raw and rocky at times but also enlightening and rejuvenating. Friendships strengthened and I relaxed into myself and the abundance around me.

Last week I flew back home and it’s just me filling these walls. The farm is a solo dream now. It’s very sad. It’s also revitalizing. But locavore is too public a space for emotional poetry and uncensored words.

Ideas are still unfolding and I’m not entirely sure what will take shape here at Gothic Cottage this season. I do know that it will be colourful, creative and full of love. And I’ll continue to fill the pages of my journal but I’ll also keep this space alive.