Dreaming of spring
I give up. We woke up this morning to a covering of snow, not a heavy one but enough to plunge us back into winter. It has been cold as cold up here this week and all the signs of spring are stubbornly stuck. The fat hellebore buds remain resolutely closed. The primroses, which last year were flowering cheerily alongside the snowdrops, are green and pinched and cold. The snouts of daffodils squat, frozen into immobility. Only the snowdrops are flowering in the side garden and along the garden wall.
So today I am going to sit by the fire and dream of spring, not the early spring of hellebores and crocuses but the full frontal overflowing of primroses and daffodils and blackthorn and apple blossom.
Blackthorn like this against a blue spring sky.
Primroses.
Kneel down and smell them. They are the faint, sweet, green smell of spring.
February Gold daffodils.
Do they bloom for you in February? Here, although they are the first daffodils to open, they are never in flower until March.
And by May bluebells in a glorious blue sea, washing round the first uncurling of the bracken fronds.
It is all out there somewhere.
I think sometimes we have to stop living for now and just dream, dream, dream... it's part of being human.
ReplyDeleteMy daffodils have not even peeked their green little heads through the ground. I am longing for spring in much the same way you are. Fingers crossed we've seen our last snow.
ReplyDeleteThe ironic thing; last February we were in full spring tilt by now, complete with a tornado.
That would be the yellow frolicking spring then!
ReplyDeletePopped over to see Mum on Tuesday - I am always amazed what a difference 60 odd miles makes - you surely have had a harder winter than us - and it has been bad enough here.
K
I hope you have enjoyed you lovely warm fire and your dreaming, I can't believe that after the lovely day we had yesterday we are back shivering. I got wet twice this morning walking the dogs... I know I was stupid to take them out twice but hey ho it makes the fire seem all that much better.
ReplyDeleteNice shots, good to be reminded of what's just around the corner. It's been so cold for so long I've almost stopped noticing but I'm not spending as much time out and about as usual.
ReplyDeleteAh, Elizabeth, we're in full blown spring here. Cherries, plums in full pink fluffiness. Yesterday I saw a street full of petals, like a drift of snow, as one type of tree finished blooming and gave up its petals.
ReplyDeleteIt will come to you too - but it sure is taking a long time!
It will come, it will come though sometimes it seems a long way away, I thought to myself as I drove back from Cardiff this afternoon in a blizzard. Perhaps the answer is indoor plants that don't mind the weather - and really - you don't want spring to come do you? All that growth that you have to hack away at and heave on to the compost heap. All the trimming and cutting - all those leaves that have no sooner sprouted than they turn brown again and fall off to be blown by the wind into an untidy heap. Winter at least keeps things neat.
ReplyDeleteSpring has to be my favourite time of the year, but as of yet there is very little sign of it here, yes I have snowdrops and catkins and the birds are singing again, but no sign of helebores, or daffodils. But I am happy to wait and enjoy the treasures that we are being given each day. So far this week I have seen the largest flock of starlings dance to their evening roost, I have followed a badger slowly plodding down our lane, a feeding frenzy at my bird feeders, and it is snowing again! Thgings aren't too bad!
ReplyDeleteSue - today is definitely a dreamy day. Husband is having a dynamic doing day and I am having a sitting by the fire one!
ReplyDeleteKim - funny, I found a diary which I used to keep before I started blogging and see that at this time three years ago February was so warm I was having my lunch outside.
Karen - yellow and frolicking for sure! I think we are generally drier than you are but, because you have the sea, we are colder. Certainly think we have had more snow.
Blossom - I did manage to get out for a wander for a few minutes, mostly to relish the warmth when I came back in again!
SMS- I do find that when it has been cold for a while it is quite hard to remember what it felt like to be hot.
Pondside - you have cherry blossom? Sounds like a dream to me. Ours wont be here until April.
Fennie - I would admit to finding a sort of relief when autumn comes and I can stop failing to keep on top of the weeding. But enough now, bring on the clowns.
Angela - now the badger sounds a good distraction. We do have the frenzy at the bird feeders with a woodpecker who has been here every day for the last week. I was trying quite hard to relish the moment but I just lost it this morning! Today can be my day off.
Well, when you get another blast of winter, there are things to do other than mourn the lack of Spring, you know. Like going into the city centre to pick up the replacement mouse (as in computer, not child's beloved pet) and finding that most of the city is there already, fighting its way through the shops, half-term offspring in tow, mostly whining, in hellish heat, the smell of fast food clinging to everyone and everything, and the newly refurbished central mall so mobbed and unfamiliar that you get horribly lost and walk round and round, go up and down escalators, keep passing the same shops, and only find your bewildered way out by accident. And by that time, all you want is home and a large pot of tea and to not come out again for several days, not even for daffodils and woodpeckers....
ReplyDeleteOne thing is for sure - you will get the spring there before we get it. Those snowdrops are actually 'open' - the first I have seen this year - ours are all up and in heavy bud but not a single one has opened up yet. Love your other photographs - I long to see our cherry in bloom.
ReplyDeleteI know I keep saying this, but I love your photos and I continue to be so jealous that even though you are cold, you at least have signs of spring!! Stay warm!!
ReplyDeleteWhat can I add? 9 eggs today - result! Hens apparently are not too bothered about this grim weather.
ReplyDeleteIt's getting rather monotonous asking myself "If winter comes, can spring be far behind?". A bit of sleety stuff here but sprinklings of snow outside Chester when I travelled there this morning. Wish I could sit in front of a fire - a radiator does not have the same effect. Cheering spring images.
ReplyDeleteRachel - now that just sounds pooh! Hope you have a much better day today.
ReplyDeleteWeaver - I suspect we are a bit ahead of you. Hard to believe in cherry blossom looking out of the window today!
Kim - thank you. I have been making shortbread in the warm kitchen this morning and am back by the fire now.
Mountainear - our hens are laying now too. They respond to the longer days I think and are not too fazed by the cold.
Anna - I know, I know. Still nearly the end of February now!
Oh no, more snow. I do feel for you Elizabeth as even the cold air that has come back is enough to annoy me when I was out gardening in warm sun a few days ago. beautiful pictures though and it really is all out there waiting for a few days of sun to bring it at in one blazing glory. Make use of the time to finish those socks maybe? x
ReplyDeleteI am envious that you are enjoying your snowdrops already. As I write this, we are getting several inches of fresh white snow. While it is beautiful, I am longing for the fresh greenery and blooms of spring. :) The clear yellow blooms of your primrose can't help but put a smile on my face.
ReplyDeleteAh, you know I'm with you on this one Elizabeth. Thankyou for the picture of your dear little daffodils. I'm a little heartened by the snow when I remember that tulips NEED a good cold snap to flower properly. Two days ago we had sun - I felt the very first spot of warmth from it.
ReplyDeleteOh good, i can comment again.
ReplyDeleteIsn't it sad, everything has shrunk back into the ground, all the lovely budds which I greeted and stroked and sniffed a few days ago have shivered back into themselves.
Perhaps you have the right idea, sit by the fire and dream of spring. There's little else to do again.