It started at 6pm last night, the soft patter of rain on the window pane. Finally, after a week the barometer started to rise as the wind chill left the air. Slowly, areas of grass & vegetation have begun to emerge from the blanket of white - all looking a little worse for wear. Bravely, the rose 'Gertrude Jekyll' is displaying a single fuchsia-pink bloom in defiance of Jack Frost. The plucky young poppies have not fared so well; their fleshy stems and leaves collapsing into mush as they thaw. Mr Mole has struggled in the frozen soil, resorting to the single grand-scale excavation of his predecessor's run. Judging by the size of the mole-hill, his exertions over the past week must have kept him toasty in the freezing temperatures.
Looking out over the brooding hues of olive & chocolate under the graphite clouds, it is hard to believe that only yesterday Isis & I had to shield our eyes from the glare of the winter sun on the snow!
