Still heading toward spring

The week began with a couple of days off, visiting some dear friends who live in a house with amazing views over the Bristol Channel to Wales. There was snow on the top of Welsh hills, but luckily - although there was a wickedly cold wind - we only saw two flakes of snow.

She has the most wonderful garden that always has something exotic blooming, no matter what the season. This time it was a magnolia stellata and some camellias in huge pots, almost too heavy to move any move, that caught my eye.

Back home in my garden signs of spring are more humble - the shy forget-me-not and the first flush of spirea leaves lift the spirits on a dreary morning.



The fritillaries have opened in the comparative warmth and lack of biting north westerly wind.

A quick walk in the woods looking for bean sticks reminded me of how, thirty years ago, I sat under this tree on a cushion of moss - so blissfully happy to have moved to the Dorset countryside from London. The holly trees always grow in a circle around the bottom of the beech trees, where the birds have dropped them (not from their beaks!)

And incipient bluebells flourish among the beechmast - a more attractive mulch than garden centre bark chippings.