This is an anniversary week for me. I'm four years cancer free. And I'm taking joy from everything I see around me: the tiny white bells of snowdrops dancing in the breeze, the yellow spears of daffodils unfolding gracefully into trumpets to announce Spring, and the sun's extra hour of light which invites me take a late afternoon walk to feel its presence.
Awakening with the Dawn chorus; in particular a blackbird’s solo. A week of not just morning audible delights, but visual ones as those beautiful sunrises make their appearance-reds, oranges and deep purples. Signalling, that it won’t be long till my journey to work will no longer require any artificial lighting. Nature’s will be enough!
This week is about alder catkins, lying all over the path like fluffy luminous green/brown caterpillars and then the promise of pussy willow - the council workers sawed a big branch off 'my' pussy willow by the brook and left it there, I harvested some twigs, brought them inside and from the chestnut brown crispy casings, I can see the first silver emerging.
There’s definitely been more bird activity in the garden, blackbirds chasing each other, dunnocks in and out from under the hedge and the return of the sound of geese flying overhead each morning back to the canal. Springs feels just over the horizon (no doubt we’ll now have snow and frost to put us back into winter)
Pancakes made this week very this week, with homemade rhubarb compote which felt seasonal (and delicious!) Definitely lots of birdsong in the early mornings, and it has been so joyful to hear the return of the skylarks!
I've been ill since Tuesday with a nasty virus so haven't been outside since then yet... but what I remember thinking is how quickly the daffodils in the front garden have shot up, almost as if they're competing with the snowdrops which are everywhere in the garden. On Monday I was in Bristol looking after my grandson (half term) so we were fossil hunting in Ladye Bay and ate chips in Clevedon 🙂
Being without a car at the moment I’m doing more walking (rubbish bus service), and seeing all the late winter/early spring flowers appearing, snowdrops, crocus. It’s not in flower yet, but I have, thanks to bird drop, a cyclamen growing in what passes for a lawn in my garden. My giant leaved primula is rebirting, and one of my pinks is starting to flower.
Out in the garden yesterday, listening to the birdsong, it took me a minute to realise I was also hearing frogs croaking in the pond for the first time this year.
Once or twice this week I’ve been able to sit outside now that the sun has risen high enough to shine over the roofs and into my small slice of garden.
This week my walks in the woods reminded me how impermanent all is. Some parts were frozen, some melted down to squish. Some leaves were stirring, others…silent. One pond had a skim of ice. Another hosted the first swim for a momma and her new ducklings. Everything changed from my last walk and the beauty of it? Everything will change again!
This is an anniversary week for me. I'm four years cancer free. And I'm taking joy from everything I see around me: the tiny white bells of snowdrops dancing in the breeze, the yellow spears of daffodils unfolding gracefully into trumpets to announce Spring, and the sun's extra hour of light which invites me take a late afternoon walk to feel its presence.
Awakening with the Dawn chorus; in particular a blackbird’s solo. A week of not just morning audible delights, but visual ones as those beautiful sunrises make their appearance-reds, oranges and deep purples. Signalling, that it won’t be long till my journey to work will no longer require any artificial lighting. Nature’s will be enough!
This week is about alder catkins, lying all over the path like fluffy luminous green/brown caterpillars and then the promise of pussy willow - the council workers sawed a big branch off 'my' pussy willow by the brook and left it there, I harvested some twigs, brought them inside and from the chestnut brown crispy casings, I can see the first silver emerging.
There’s definitely been more bird activity in the garden, blackbirds chasing each other, dunnocks in and out from under the hedge and the return of the sound of geese flying overhead each morning back to the canal. Springs feels just over the horizon (no doubt we’ll now have snow and frost to put us back into winter)
Hellebores, snowdrops, cyclamen, crocuses, viburnum, honeysuckle, birdsong and milder temperatures.
Pancakes made this week very this week, with homemade rhubarb compote which felt seasonal (and delicious!) Definitely lots of birdsong in the early mornings, and it has been so joyful to hear the return of the skylarks!
I've been ill since Tuesday with a nasty virus so haven't been outside since then yet... but what I remember thinking is how quickly the daffodils in the front garden have shot up, almost as if they're competing with the snowdrops which are everywhere in the garden. On Monday I was in Bristol looking after my grandson (half term) so we were fossil hunting in Ladye Bay and ate chips in Clevedon 🙂
Buds are out and turning green on my lilac tree and pale yellow primroses are in flower in my garden.
Being without a car at the moment I’m doing more walking (rubbish bus service), and seeing all the late winter/early spring flowers appearing, snowdrops, crocus. It’s not in flower yet, but I have, thanks to bird drop, a cyclamen growing in what passes for a lawn in my garden. My giant leaved primula is rebirting, and one of my pinks is starting to flower.
It was warm enough to go outside without a coat, and be greeted by a wave of perfume from a sarcocca near the front door.
True to form the frogs felt the valentines vibe and got busy...every pond and puddle in the woods is brimming with spawn!
The first daffodils popping their trumpets out in the rain
Out in the garden yesterday, listening to the birdsong, it took me a minute to realise I was also hearing frogs croaking in the pond for the first time this year.
Once or twice this week I’ve been able to sit outside now that the sun has risen high enough to shine over the roofs and into my small slice of garden.
Drinking a blood orange shrub, looking out over a fresh snowfall. (7 inches! A record for Valentine’s Day!)
This week my walks in the woods reminded me how impermanent all is. Some parts were frozen, some melted down to squish. Some leaves were stirring, others…silent. One pond had a skim of ice. Another hosted the first swim for a momma and her new ducklings. Everything changed from my last walk and the beauty of it? Everything will change again!