I’m beside myself with excitement: Spring has arrived here in the Indre.
We had been suffering a bit from cool winds coming down from the north, prolonging winter and holding back the new growth. “When spring does come, it’ll arrive with a bang” we were telling each other in the morning queue at the bakers’.
Right on time, last weekend, the weather changed, the temperatures doubled and daffodils burst into flower. A little rain with delightful, warm sunshine and the beds have been transformed into a riot of competing growth, as garden plants wrestle with weeds over every centimetre of ground. Fortunately I have been weeding most days during the past month or more and the borders are under reasonable control. My random seed sowing is bearing fruit as ornamental annuals germinate alongside less desirable vegetation in between the more permanent planting.
Where once the ground was bare, bulbs and herbaceous plants are emerging from winter dormancy and in the sky, insects are again being hunted by swallows and bats. I heard my first Cuckoo of the season yesterday with money in my pockets, ensuring a prosperous year.
Several times a day I tear myself away from work to check the garden for new signs. Lilies appeared today which could not be seen yesterday; the Tulips have subtly increased in height; that Peony is definitely alive. One flower, then ten flowers, now the whole apricot bush is covered, in the space of three or four days. If this sort of thing does not move you then check your own pulse for signs of activity; out in the garden the symphony of life has just begun – you can smell it, you can see it, you can feel it.