I live in the south east corner of the UK and over the last few weeks there have been some changes that to me are really significant. These are important events that are worthy of note.
It started with the catkins, dangling in clumps on the trees, neither yellow nor green. They were the first sign of life on the dull, drab, greyness of the early morning.
Next, the snowdrops forced their way into life and my consciousness. Green spears followed by beautiful white shades. This year I have seen lots of tall snowdrops. Are they like people, getting taller as they age?
Crocuses or is it “croci” have appeared. Yesterday I saw them lining the side of the path though a wood. Right now times are not so good from them. They need the sunshine to coax them open and bring their glowing colours to life. The rain leaves them limp and listless, some of them plastered to the floor unable to stand proud.
The ultimate sign for me are the daffodils. Usually it is a joy if a few are out and in full bloom for St. David’s Day (1 March if you are not in the know).
In my village, in a sheltered corner a posse of daffs have been out for days. I was delighted by the coincidence that my neighbour who lives in the daffodil yellow house, knows that these are the first daffodils of the year.
For me they are a clear sign that spring is sprung.