.... as spring comes on.
The snowdrops have been out for a fortnight round my local cenotaph. And it’s been snowing.
It never fails to amaze me how hardy British nature is. How can that delicate fresh green push up so relentlessly through the frozen earth?
And those fragile little bells stand the cold?! But they do, every year without fail and herald the appearance of daffodils and primroses and crocuses on my dog walks in the woods.
Even the odd violet.