Spring 2010

Has Spring sprung or merely gently yawned and stretched?
Last night, for the first time this year, I heard a frog calling with that distinctive rolling chirp. In 2009 the frogs started singing a full month earlier than this. There are a few individuals in our pond and the fish are swimming about in the expectation of tasty frogs' eggs though I think they may be disappointed for a while yet (not French, our fish, nor gastronomes – no taste for grenouilles). I'll feed them anyway so that some spawn may survive – if eventually it is deposited.
Spring is certainly taking its time to wake up. The Spring flowers are late. Usually the tête-à-tête daffodils are in full bloom by St David's Day on 1^st March but they've only opened in the past week. Other daffodils in the garden and in pots are still in bud, their glories yet to be revealed. Tree buds are beginning to ripen but everything seems reluctant to show itself.

Common Ninebark  (Physocarpus Opulifolius) 'Dart's Gold'

I suppose Spring always enters shyly, disclosing her beauty gradually so that we may appreciate it the more. Our Common Ninebark (Physocarpus Opulifolius) is almost in leaf – I love the bright yellow-green of its foliage and of course the hazel catkins are shaking their tails in the breeze.

 Corkscrew hazel (Corylus avellana contorta)

I discovered some hellebores bravely blooming, their heads barely raised above the ground. The crocuses were late, too, and the lone snowdrop I've seen stands tall and proud – and late - in the shelter of the ninebark.

Somewhat battered Hellebore

Perhaps Spring is performing the dance of the seven veils. Maybe she always does but as I look out on this dank March day I feel that this year she is being unnecessarily coy. If the sun shines later – or ever – I will definitely feel more hopeful but for now the wind is sharpening and the drizzle is determined to grow up into rain.