This month I had the chance to attend the Northwest Flower & Garden Festival, thanks to my dear friend Sabrina, and I walked away more inspired than I expected.
First of all, if you haven’t heard what she’s building here in Bellingham, it’s incredible. In a little warehouse in town, her team is creating 3D printed birdhouses with built-in digital cameras so you can literally watch a bird choose the house, build its nest, lay eggs, and raise its babies. It’s one of those ideas that makes you think, “Of course this should exist.” They were even featured on Shark Tank. It’s such a cool reminder that innovative, imaginative things are being built right here in our community.
But the part of the festival that really stopped me in my tracks was something else entirely.
There was a section dedicated to urban small spaces. Tiny patios. Compact backyards. Narrow side yards. And every single one of them was transformed into something layered, lush, and intentional. It was proof that square footage is never the whole story. Creativity changes everything.
Then I turned a corner and saw the installation that literally gave me goosebumps.
A full garden built inside the convention center. Trees, pathways, texture, lighting — and tucked inside was a “she-shed” reading nook that looked like a tiny library cottage. It felt quiet. Thoughtful. Sacred in a way.
And immediately, my brain went somewhere very specific.
Years ago, we built a playhouse in our backyard out of recycled materials for the kids. It has been well loved. But lately it sits empty. Apparently, they have “outgrown” it.
Standing in that garden, I realized I don’t have to let it fade into the background.
This spring, I’m dreaming up a transformation. Plants. Shelving. Lighting. A cozy chair. A comfy rug. A space that feels tucked away, a part of nature and entirely mine.
There’s something about this time of year that invites us to see our homes differently. Spring is the season of possibility. Of clearing out what no longer fits. Of planting something new. Of reimagining corners that have been overlooked.
I spend so much of my life helping others imagine what a home could be. It felt fitting, and honestly necessary, to walk into a space that reminded me to do the same in my own backyard.
Maybe that’s your invitation too. A patio that could become a retreat. A spare room that could become a studio. A yard that could become a sanctuary.
Sometimes we don’t need more space. We just need a new vision for the space we already have.
I cannot wait to begin.
~Tracie