There is no denying the signs of spring
First, I would like to apologise to the plot. You see, I am too easily distracted by gaudy Indian opulence and it takes me time to adjust to subtlety. Which is just a long-winded way of saying that after the sun-saturated fertility of the Keralan coconut groves I didn’t fully appreciate the signs of spring in our soil. And I bad-mouthed the allotment. And I am sorry.
Now admittedly the sun has been shining, but the onions which on Sunday appeared stunted, with new eyes seem to have doubled in size. So too the mizuna. And whereas at the weekend it was easier to see the burnt-brown after-effects of the frost, today the crimsons, scarlets and turmeric colours of the Bright Lights chard shone like a scattered child”s necklace at the bottom of the plot.
Every allotment is thrumming with signs of new life. Bulbous rhubarb is thrusting through while hellebores, daffodils, cowslips, crocuses all nod happily in the afternoon glow. Almost every tree or bush appears to be in bud. The blackbirds are in song and the pond is alive with frantic, wriggling froggy movement.
Readers, the scales fell from my eyes and my half-full cup flowed. Hoping your does too.
