Winter’s back has been broken.

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When I went to Scotland last week for a few days I left behind me a rather drab and colourless garden that was still caught on the cold, clammy hand of winter. Now that I’m back I see that winter’s grip has been loosened and my back garden is spotted with white crocuses, daffodils that about to burst open and purple irises. Although it’s yet somewhat cold, I can feel the urge rising within me to get out there and tidy things up, get the garden into shape and hope for days that will allow me to enjoy sunshine, flowers and a healthy draught of vintage, the kind that “hath been cooled a long age in the deep-delved earth, tasting of flora, Provençal song and sunburnt mirth …”.