Slowly stirring the rich pot of life

I do have mixed feelings about this time of year. On the one hand, I'm eager for spring to really show its hand, feel the warmth of the sun, and be surrounded by an explosion of life. On the other hand, I don't want to rush it and spring be half way through before I've even had chance to appreciate it.

So today I thought I'd head out into my garden and just enjoy those little signals that spring is starting to stir life's rich pot.

Great Tits and Goldfinches were singing, there was a Smooth Newt moving in torpid slow motion in the bottom of the pond that yesterday had been frozen over.

But I turned my attention to plants.

The most visible change in the last couple of weeks has been the lengthening and colouring up of the creamy lambs' tails of the Hazel catkins.

These are the male flowers, masses of them in each catkin, shaking their pollen into the air. Close up, each is like a little felt cap over the dangling stamens.

But this is where I urge you to really go into the detail, walk up to a Hazel tree, admire those catkins up close, and then notice the female flowers, barely a few millimetres long, like little sea anemones poking their red tentacles out.

In my garden, I have another small tree that is in subtle flower at this time of year - the Cornus mas from southern Europe, pre-empting the yellow to come from the daffodils. It will have berries later in the year for the birds.

But the real fire at this time of year is from the Witch Hazel, Hamamelis.

With daytime temperatures under ten degrees Centigrade, I struggled to find a single flying insect out and about, but trhat's as it should be. As that sun climbs ever higher day by day, its heat will further stoke the fire, and that pot of life will begin to bubble.