The last 12 months, almost exactly as I write this, have been different for everyone.

Each of us has faced our own challenges, and our own journeys.

We are united in the reason for it, but each story is unique. 

Never, in my lifetime, have we yearned for spring with quite such intensity. 

It’s coming, it really is.

The winds may still be bitingly cold, but buds have already broken on the eager hawthorn and weeping willow in our neighbourhood.

Wild garlic is well on it’s way towards being harvestable,

and the flower buds on the akebia quinata  alba* are out. 

Even if you live in an urban sprawl, signs of spring will be there.

Perhaps a magnolia in someone’s front garden, or some early narcissus shining in a neglected corner.

It’s nature’s way of reminding us to keep going.

Things will get better.

*  if you have even the smallest patch of garden with a fence which needs covering – give this a try. The flowers are like tiny exquisite sculptures, and it needs very little attention.