March 2013

Crazy, seesaw weather, one day freezing grey, the next, hot in sun, then icy again, neither we nor the plants know how to handle it…

New celandine blooms
hard by frost-trammelled blossoms.
Spring postponed, not stopped.



After all that bitter weather, suddenly it’s warm and sunny…

Suddenly warmer,
Flowers respond, opening.
As to a kind word.



All of a sudden, after pointillist stasis during that very cold spell, the frog spawn has begun metamorphosis…

Full stops to commas,
frog spawn reflects Spring’s onslaught…



Walking in the butchered woods, brutally clear cut, mangled, like a WW1 battlefield; but Nature, as always, is ready to replace, to exploit the sudden extra light exposure…

Foxgloves are massing,
crowding exposed, clear-cut banks.
Poised for their moment.



The hazels are all catkin-adorned: beautiful, gold-coloured, delicate bunches blowing golden pollen into the air with every little gust of breeze…

Hazels’ tassle-dance
powders the blue air golden.
Its own fairy dust.