There’s nothing quite like spring in the south. It can be all too brief, especially this year with winter making several unwelcome reappearances, but I’m thrilled to be back here to see spring happening.

Several weeks ago, a Kwanzan (or Kanzan) cherry tree in our yard burst forth in beautiful pink blossoms, and though leaves have already taken the place of the blooms, I’m happy to have been back in time for the showy display.

It’s not only human friends who have been welcoming me home. I walk through parks and on trails and along creeks that shimmer with plants I love and missed.

Wild dogwoods abound. The woods are a magical pale green filling up more empty space each day, promising to shelter me from the summer sun that’s coming.

Poison Ivy (a plant I despise) is growing again after winter, but along with it comes the wild ginger, a plant I can’t pass in the woods now without thinking of playing among it as a child. I keep getting these little pangs—not homesickness exactly, because I’m home after all—but a little buzzing emotion when I come across things such as the wild ginger that I didn’t even realize I missed.

Spring in the south is giving me its best, “Welcome Home.” My heart is full.