It's officially spring - someone tell the weatherman!
Yes, daffodils and blossom can be seen through the mist
but the 'St Patrick's Day' daffodils are usually in flower on their name day. Not this year, they are still in tight bud.
The best place to be gardening is in the greenhouse away from the cold wind.
I've put some of the over-wintering pots outside and hope that I won't be caught out by any overnight frost. The greenhouse warms up quickly with just the shortest glimpse of midday sun.
I've repotted about one hundred auriculas in an effort to rid them of vine weevils.
The first and second early potatoes are chitting,
last week's swap seeds are ready for planting,
buds are swelling
and Maisie's grave is surrounded by primroses.
We hadn't been into the woods for quite a while because major clearing work had churned up the paths and made it difficult to walk. But the weather has been dry for days so we wrapped up well and went to see what was happening.
The landscape is totally changed, with large areas cleared of undergrowth and dead and damaged wood and whole vistas opened. It is very disorientating.
The brash was being burnt and blue woodsmoke hung in the valley bottom.
Two completely new roads have been established, funded, we learnt from the woodman, mostly by the Forestry Commission. I found it difficult to get my bearings in this altered landscape.
But I'm pleased that the work is being done as I know that nature will very quickly soften and reclaim the land. Young trees have been planted and there will be good clean walking underfoot in future whatever the weather. It's far better to see woodland managed than to have it fall into neglect. Ivy has been cut to avoid trees becoming top heavy and breaking in the wind.
Bluebell leaves are pushing up through the woodland floor.
There were signs of spring all about us as we came home by the lake;
ducks in pairs
and pollen on the catkins.