
Yesterday I saw catkins for the first time, on the trees by the banks of Mill Beck.
And now the first daffodil has burst into a glorious blaze of yellow in the back garden. It's only a miniature one so the flower is very small, but manages to look cheerful and utterly defiant in the face of morning frosts and a keen wind. Daffodils are my favourite flowers for just that reason. It's lovely to see them shouting their wares from the tattered winter flower-beds again.
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