As I came through the gates this morning, gravel and grass still wet from a heavy downpour in the early hours, I was struck by the remarkable change in colour the garden had taken on almost over night. After six seemingly lengthy days in dry, bright heat, a few hours of soaking had been gratefully received right across the board. Deep blue alkanet and tall white cow parsley suddenly appeared thick and heavy along the boundary edges and up through the wood, where they mingled with the celandine yellows and new-nettle green. Along the meadow floor, beneath the now deeper and dulling daffodils, a carpet of pink lamium had grown up, clashing purposefully with the wild Spanish bluebells that bow heads in white, pink and purple.
It was all a sudden reminder, as with the annual returning screech of swifts overhead; that the season has begun, or rather; the winter is gone now, and here begins the rapid run of successional bloom that keeps me busy and engaged long into autumn.
A couple of weeks back, during one of the last days of winter; a first day of sunshine, I took some photographs during the quiet afternoon, reflecting on the long and eventful Winter now ended.