As I walk through garden in its winter slumber, I am always struck by the quiet beauty, the dormant promise of what is to come. Yet, every year, without fail, I find myself marvelling as the buds and blossoms reappear, as though this renewal is somehow a surprise to me. 

The apple trees, once bare and stark against the grey winter sky, now burst forth in soft pink and white blossoms. I love the way they drift in the air like snow on a windy day, although given how many windy days we have I am also surprised that the tree holds blossoms at all. 

And then there are the lilies, their bold green shoots pushing through the soil with determination, the promise of vibrant orange blooms to follow. Again, I feel an element of surprise, each year I question if they will have survived the winter and then - there they are,  each one a testament to nature's resilience and determination to flourish. 

I watch in anticipation as the Allium buds prepare to pop open, their clusters resembling lilac starbursts against the backdrop of greenery. I planted a few more varieties last year, so I hope to have some contrasting shades from lilac to deep purple this spring. 

Amid this renewal, there are unexpected delights as well. The odd dark blue Iris, accidentally relocated from older parts of the original garden, now randomly appear in beds, adding a touch of spontaneity and colour to the landscape.

But amidst the beauty, there is also loss. At this time of year, I miss the swaying pink blossoms of the weeping cherry, which sadly succumbed to disease last winter. Fortunately, the weeping birch I planted in its place now stands tall and strong, its graceful branches adding movement to the garden.

Gardens, in all their forms, really are magical places. In a world that can often feel increasingly gloomy and uncertain, they serve as a reminder that there is still beauty and joy to be found in nature. 

As I wander through the garden, surrounded by the sights and scents of spring, I am reminded of the resilience of nature. No matter how harsh the winter, nature finds a way to persevere, to thrive, to bloom once again. And for that, I am endlessly grateful.

A wee spring garden poem from me..

In winter's hush, the gardens lie,
Yet every year, beneath the sky,
I marvel as the buds arise,
As if they're born anew, surprise.

The apple trees, in soft array,
Their blossoms dance like snow in May,
While lilies, with their promise bold,
Push through the earth, their tale untold.

Allium buds, like starlight bright,
Prepare to burst with sheer delight,
And dark blue Iris, by chance found,
In beds they bloom, their beauty crowned.

In spring, I mourn the cherry's grace,
Lost to the winter's cold embrace,
Yet birch, now strong, its branches sway,
Adding movement to the day.

Amidst the gloom, the gardens bloom,
A refuge from the world's dark loom,
A place where joy and beauty reign,
And nature's wonders soothe the pain.