It happens all the time. The heart is the seat of the urban gardener’s soul. Restless, the lonely hunter seeks more, more to give, to share, to embrace. Swirling snow storms, great frozen snow drifts, lone pots sport sugary white caps. Frost heaves are When you see or hear the words "living landscape," what do you think? That all the plants are alive? But the term is broader than plants. Indeed