The snowdrops are waning, their heralding work done; our crocuses, too, are looking ragged. The flowering baton has been passed on to jaunty daffodils and fragrant hyacinths... and the blossoming trees. We have a kind of plum or prunus, whose delicate blossoms the pigeons are finding irresistibly delicious; but happily, even after they've feasted on it, it still looks lovely. And the magnolia is beginning to emerge...! All through winter its buds have been tiny, tight, green-gold. Then, a week or so ago I began to notice the occasional rosy sliver, sign of the first brave flowers tentatively emerging from their protective covering. Gradually, a few more have started peeking through, and word seems to be getting around: hey, everyone, it's spring, we can come out now!
Yes, spring is definitely springing!
For now the winter is past, the rain is over and gone.* The flowers appear on the earth; the time of singing has come... (Song of Solomon 2.11-12)
* Except that, this being Britain, the rain is NEVER over and gone!
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