I wrote my undergraduate dissertation on T.S. Eliot’s The Wasteland, so I know all too well that famous opening line: “April is the cruellest month…” For me however, February has felt particularly cruel. It seems as if my bones have been well and truly chilled, and the skies have been a weighty blanket of dismal grey. I have really struggled with the low, monotonous light, not least because it makes taking photographs so much more difficult. I feel as if I am aching for Spring with every fibre of my being!
Nevertheless, there have been bright moments this month. We have had pancakes, birthday cakes and cakes to share with friends. Flowers have been popping up their heads as if to promise that Spring will arrive before too long and a charity shop scarf brought some Spring-like colour to my largely monochromatic Winter wardrobe. On the 14th, there was the simple sweetness of an exchange of valentines. We have seized every opportunity to catch a glimpse of blue skies and soak up each drop of available sunshine, with plenty of muddy welly walks in the glacial air.
In my family, the first of March is considered to be the first day of Spring. My Grandad (whose birthday this was) was insistent that Spring and March began together on St David’s Day. On this day there will always be a bunch of daffodils in the house in his memory. Realistically, I know that Spring won’t be here for a few weeks yet, but nevertheless, the end of Winter is finally in sight, and for that I am deeply grateful.