In other years, as spring approaches, I have always walked around my garden, impatient to spot the tiny buds that seem to appear overnight on previously dead looking branches as mother nature gets moving. But what with the appalling weather and the worst flu I have ever had, I have been denied this pleasure. Until today.
The sun was shining and very warm, and this was the first time I felt well enough to step outside and be totally amazed at what has been going on in my absence.
The first thing I saw when I opened my back door and stepped out into the fresh air, were my bonsai collection. Most of my collection are Japanese Acers, displaying so many different colours in their tiny leaves. My oldest, at nearly fifty years, is at present a vivid scarlet when it first shoots into life, changing through the year from bright red to green and finally yellow.
The new leaves in Acers are always stunningly vivid, whatever their colour, and I was so pleased I hadn’t missed the initial display.
Further down the garden, the forsythia in the hedge is a brilliant yellow and nearby, my new cherry tree sports big pale pink buds, promising an amazing statement.
Everywhere I look, life is beginning again, such a cheerful sight after the miserable start to the year.
But not everything has waited for me. The white camellia has suffered frost damage, the creamy white blossom burnt around the edges. Then I notice that my new addition, a purple magnolia sapling, has no leaf or flower buds. The branches are bare, the one sad sight in my garden. It is such a lovely colour, and I hope it is just dragging its heels, not something worse.
As I stood there, enjoying the sunshine, it felt wonderful to be feeling so much better after one of the worst flu virus I remember having. As I stood there, a true gardener, I noticed how long the grass was already and wondered why weeds seem to grow so much faster than anything else does?
They say a weed is just a plant that is growing in the wrong place. This is an interesting theory, but weed or plant, they seem so very different to garden plants.
I feel like a weed sometimes, not quite in the right place and constantly being metaphorically cut back. And just like a weed, I always seem bounce back, stronger than ever.
At least so far!