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at last

March 21, 2010

The very first daffodil. I am sure they have never been this late before. I spent the whole afternoon in the garden, weeding, mulching and sweeping. I tipped another bag of manure on the ever-hungry bog garden, did the same to the autumn fruiting raspberries, and filled a bag the size of a dustbin liner with dead foliage, mostly from the purple loosestrife that grows to a tremendous height and helpfully hides the water butt in summer.

The bog garden after a spring-clean.

There are buds everywhere, but I think my favourites are these, on a patch of moss in the rockery.

The sun was warm, the blackbird was singing endlessly from our neighbours’ TV aerial, and I even saw a ladybird. Spring. At last.

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