Sunday 9th February

A week ago I saw some daffodils, but these were in a private park off Sloane Street and I suspect that they were grown in a nursery and had been planted there.  But yesterday on the green space in front of some council flats near Island Gardens station I saw the first real crocuses of Spring.  Just poking their heads up beneath a tree, there they were.  A few daffs had risen miraculously from the sodden earth too, but they weren’t in flower yet.

And how these simple harbingers of the Spring raise your spirits, they just make you feel good.  It hasn’t been the worst of winters, really quite mild so far, but far too wet and windy.  And by the end of January after a damp November and December you are just a ready for some sunshine.  And here the clouds parted just a little to give us a little warmth, and the sun, which is always there of course just hidden so often, shone down.   A pale watery sun giving just a hint of warmth.  But sometimes that’s all you need.

And so as the days start to lengthen and my morning walk with the dogs is now in almost daylight rather than the pitch black wildness of winter we can start to look forward to another Spring.  As the years go by I long for the Spring and Summer more and more.  There is nothing pleasant about the winter, despite the Winter Olympics with their mountains of snow and ice.  In Sochi it is almost all artificial.  Mind you the Russians have done a good job, the place looks fabulous.  Not too many crocuses there I expect.