I am powerless to resist.
The sun finally made a return appearance on Saturday, though the air was still bitterly cold. The beginning of each weekend finds me eager to discover how the garden has changed, particularly at this time of year when new life surging through the garden can show striking progress.
The ground is not quite as saturated as it has been; though the grass paths in the kitchen garden still squelch under foot, and there is more mud than grass where foot traffic is heaviest alongside the wood store.
A sunny day pulled me into the garden this weekend, though the day was cold and the icy wind unrelenting.
Our Rijnveld’s Early Sensation daffodils were sparkling in the sunshine today. With blue skies and hardly a breath of wind, it was a perfect February day: a welcome change after the recent torrents of rain and fierce winds.
For the past couple of days, we have seen welcome spells of sunshine, amid squally showers where the brutal winds throw rain horizontally at the house.
Fresh snow continued to fall for the first few days and nights of this week, creating whirlwinds of white beneath the brooding skies.
The fifth of January, and the first buds of our Rijnveld’s Early Sensation daffodils have burst into song.
Early in April, just hours before tragic events sent us spiralling across the country, my sister and I spent a lovely sunny afternoon at Dyffryn Gardens, near Cardiff. Here is a mostly wordless selection of my favourite pictures from that beautiful afternoon.
April is the cruellest month. So began TS Eliot in The Burial of The Dead, the opening section of The Waste Land, published in 1922. All very apt 90 years later, as I struggle to comprehend a world without my beloved Dad.