We can see grass again! The snow has gone, except where it lies still melting under the hedgerows up on the high hills. The garden is coming alive, chrome-yellow of dogwood (Cornus mas) on the farm boundary, soon to be pale lemon starbursts; snowdrops, somewhat dishevelled; woodland lime-green hellebore and a deep smokey-blue variety in a tub by the back-door - they hang their heads shamefully and you have to gently turn their faces to see the stamens, when they should be saying, "look at me!" Polyanthus and primrose flourish demurely in terracotta pots; the first fat buds are already tinged with coral-pink on the japonica. All beguile me.
And oh, a breath of Spring-to-come - the first delicate species-crocus has erupted overnight through the grass under the damson tree: a tiny amethyst torch to light the 'plum patch'. The fragile petals will open in the sunshine, revealing stamens of such bright orange you would think they were on fire. They will flame 'ere long; and they do so in a few hours, a little clump of them seeking the sun, and closing again at dusk. They have multiplied over the years and appear in strange places. Every day now will bring new wonders.
(All this should have been posted in my 'garden blog' or 'Notes from a Cotswold Garden' but I did so want to share this 'day of greening' and it will be a while before they appear on my website as I first have to paste the text into my electronic diary, and then assemble them in a page layout, and then publish the complete page.)
Meanwhile, we have a busy week ahead of us, attending a trade craft show and one for the travel industry. Thankyou to everyone who has visited my blogs over the last few days; thankyou for your kind and wonderful comments - they are all so very much appreciated.