Today is the first morning of the year that the dawn has felt more like spring than winter. The seasons are definitely on the turn, but the mornings still possess that strange, eerie quality of ‘no-man’s-land.
The sun is tangibly warm, but there’s still frost on the ground, which crunches slightly underfoot. Snowdrops, crocuses and daffodils are pushing their way vivaciously out of the ice-scorched ground, but as yet; their leaves are the only green in sight. We still have a long way to go before buds open up on the trees & hedgerows, and the scarf can be left in the drawer when it’s time for the morning walk…
But if the eyes can delight in the relief of spring’s arrival, so too can the tastebuds! The first delicate pink forced-rhubarb, still picked by candlelight in Yorkshire; has made its way to the grocers’ markets, as has the first vibrant gleeful purple-sprouting broccoli. Its taste abounds with the frenetic joy of spring and new growth; true and blessed relief after the interminable flatness of winter-store vegetables!
As I trudge round the fields on the morning walk, my thoughts turn with relish to the new influx of taste & cheer that’s soon to greet both pasture and plate. For I feel we need it.
We have waited long enough.
Whatever you do today, be sure to watch out for the signs of spring, for they promise to bring relief and good cheer.
Thanks for reading,