Rain and high winds were phenomenal over Christmas and hive continued through January, there having been hardly two fine days in succession. There has been only the occasional frosty night which has done but little damage to field and lawn pastures, and green shoots are forging ahead. Snowdrops, always the early heralds of Spring, have been conspicuous for some time in the hedgerows where they annually flourish. They look so fragile as they are tossed hither and thither in the wind, yet they have pushed up through the dank mould to nod their milk-white heads in an unsympathetic world. It would have to be one of the oldest flowers in creation if the legend was true that the snowdrop inspired hope and comfort in Eve's heart when she was banished from Eden.
Particularly pleasing to me was the sound of low croaking in my garden pond, as I knew then the frogs were still there. During a severe winter several years ago the fish in the pond died. There were only a few water lilies flowering in the summer. Then the frogs came and I am glad to say seem to be well established there.