Spring has sprung. Well, the date has come and gone anyway. But it’s blinking freezing here. I even saw a sprinkling of frost on the neighbour’s roof this morning as I quickly opened the shutters onto a hazy, misty sky.
We had one beautifully mild day last week when we all thought we could remove our jacket for six months. But the next day it was back on, with the woolly scarf and gloves to keep it company. And they’re still on now.
As humans we are surprised. But the poor ignorant trees just don’t have a clue what’s going on. Before that one warm day they were very slowly waking up, showing the most miniscule, brown, freckly buds at the tips of their branches. Then in one big sunny whoosh they were all covered in little prologues of leaves or great chapters of petals, in wide shade cards of pinks and whites.
But the next day’s chill brought on a huge organic mannequin challenge. Nothing has moved since last Thursday. The blossom is intact, as pure and clean as new snow. The leaves are still tiny infants, lying quietly in their cribs. One majestic chestnut tree I pass has impatient chubby lollipops on its ends. Bright, round, shiny buds the same shape and size as Chupa Chups, ready to burst open.
Time and nature have been standing still, waiting for a few delicious degrees to kiss everything back to life.
But when? Not now anyway. I am writing this beside a roaring winter’s fire. Three big logs are blazing away, working hard to keep my toes cosy.
Tomorrow? If we can believe the pathological optimists on the weather channel then maybe we’re in to gain a couple of degrees.
But will they be enough to push it all into motion once more and completely open up the pages of Spring?
I certainly hope so because I for one am eagerly awaiting the shift to summertime tomorrow as I retire to bed. Bring on the light nights. That extra hour of daylight to go for an evening walk, sniffing the flower-filled air, watching the shades of green change from sharp to muted as the season evolves, feeling the warmth of the day hug my shoulders and back.
So please Mr Sunshine, get your skates on and slide back over here.
I want to leap into Spring!