The winter here in the southern part of the UK has felt like it's dragged on forever. It hasn't been particularly cold, just endless rain and damp. Gloomy.
But finally we're seeing the start of spring, very late; it's nearly a month after Imbolc.
The one thing I really look forward to is our little patch of daffodils coming up.
They may not look like much, but they've got a lot of sentimental value !
They're a dwarf breed, and pop up at the edge of our drive each spring. It's a bit of a weed patch, because it's on a small slope in front of our fence by the roadside which needs to be cut by strimmer or by hand, so it'll never be a nice grassy lawn.
I'm not sure what the purple flower is, it seems to have infiltrated the patch but I don't mind, the colour goes well with the yellow of the daffodils.
This is the best they've ever been, it started with a single flower planted many years ago shortly after we moved into the house. They came in a pot given to us by the church my grandmother went to, on the last time we saw her.
Each year after that, they came up, usually just a few flowers. But for some reason, Tabby (our very first cat) loved that spot, and would sit there each spring to greet his fan club. In particular a group of old Nepalese women who had recently arrived in the country and spoke no English; they'd stop on the small green opposite for a cup of tea from a Thermos flask, and Tabby would always go over to greet them.
Both my grandmother and Tabby are long gone now, but the daffodils always remind me of both of them when they come up each spring. They don't last long, because they're in a place where some delivery van will end up driving over them, but they're nice while they last.
All photos by me