Spring has arrived.

It comes in so hesitantly, quietly, unobtrusively at first, but its onset gradually speeds up so that finally it comes racing down in a headlong gallop.

The signs are unmistakeable now. All of a sudden your winter clothes seem heavy and uncomfortable. You notice that the lawn, which has been a patch of indifferent mud of late, has turned fresh and green, apparently overnight. Already snowdrops, crocus and daffodils have raced by, and we are now seeing tulips. There are creamy lemon ones, and rich orange-yellow ones, in the tubs at our front door. The magnolias in the parks, especially the pink early Campbelli, are opening their huge, unbelievable flowers. The buds on the lilac, cherry, apple and wisteria, are growing fatter every day.

There is now a dawn chorus. It begins, when it is still dark, with some unknown bird’s piping call and gradually swells into full orchestra. Eventually a blackbird takes up his beautiful song just beside my open window, and it is so lovely it seems every other bird falls silent to listen, and so he closes the day’s performance.

We have survived the winter.


About adhocannie
I am a good natured woman with a long memory and a swift tongue. I like loooking at things and thinking about them. Also food, clothes, travel, reading, sewing. I try to see the ridiculous in things, but sobriety of reflection keeps edgting in. I have husband, children, grandchildren, friends... I feel rich in things that matter. I am a happy exile. I like writing. I do not like talking about me (though I do.). You willl be much more interesting.

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