SNOWdrops, really?

Last month when I posted on this blog, I was a bit depressed. Winter was going on too long, far too many grey and dreary days. I looked at my bonsai trees for signs of life, but they were still sleeping. Maybe a few buds looked a little bigger, but that could have been optimism and faulty eyesight. (I have both, in equal measure)

Then yesterday as I walked to the local shops I noticed signs of life in all the front gardens. Tiny daffodils bobbing in the breeze and early blossom appearing on what I think are almond trees. And a patch of snowdrops bravely trembling in the chilly air. By the time I got home I was feeling a little uplifted, cheered by what I had seen and knowing that Spring was definitely coming. Maybe a little too slowly for my liking, but hey, I'm not in charge, am I?

I even went to the garden centre at the weekend and bought some new plants for the garden, sure that I would be gardening soon enough. I looked forward to tidying up the winter debris of leaves and twigs, not to mention what the cats have done to the flower beds. The grass would need cutting soon too, it was starting to grow again.

But then the bad news. Apparently we are in for more cold weather, possibly snow. I think of the snowdrops.
How would they cope? If the weather was bad enough they might perish. I had seen that happen before, and I wondered again why Nature got her timing so wrong sometimes. But the fact that it never seems to matter, that she just continues to do what she does best, should be a lesson to all of us who need to learn a little patience.

I am a huge fan of Mother Nature. I love her delicate touch, the pretty things she creates out of almost nothing. And her drama, the power that she can wield, the destruction and the majesty. I can forgive her anything, for all that she brings to us.