So yesterday was the first day of spring and it presented as such: a crisp clear and frosty morning heralding a day of unbroken sunshine.

And the signs of spring are everywhere although, like last year, a little later than we had become used to in recent years, because of the abnormal, intense cold throughout December and January.

To say that the signs of spring are everywhere is not quite accurate: they are there on the plants and shrubs that have survived the cold but, once again, the attrition has been severe.

This Rose of Sharon was badly beaten by the January 2010 freeze but has plainly been defeated by this winter's lows.

And the Vibernum behind it looks as though it too is on its way out.

The loss of these two will not cause us too much grief because they were badly grown or were well passed their best and we had had thoughts of replacing them anyway, but............

............if we have lost this old rambling rose, as it looks as though we have, I will be devastated for it has been a major feature of our bockety garden for the past twenty five years or more. It flowered copiously from spring until the first major air frost of the year, which in the days before the new 'Irish Ice Age' could take one to Christmas, in a good year

But, to my delight, there are new shoots on the equally old clematis on the front of the house. I had, in fact, thought that it too had succumbed and cut it back more severely this year than ever before on what you might describe as a 'live or die' basis.

But for me, the very fact that February is now behind us is cause enough for celebration. I'm not entirely sure why, but February has always been my least favoured month.

Others with whom I have shared this, wholly unimportant, opinion express surprise and point out that it is during February that the first signs of spring present: there is a perceptible lengthening of the day, a hint of warmth in the sun when it shines, the crocuses and snowdrops are in flower and the daffodils are thrusting upwards.

Our snowdrops........

...............and crocuses or rather crocus because, and I hesitate from saying this, the girls eat the flowers the minute they emerge!

Daffodils thrusting upwards..............

............with some already in flower.

And the rhubarb emerging.

But for some reason these undoubtedly promising and cheering signs fail to work their magic on me.

It is December and January, others tell me, that they find more difficult.

But for me, December is vindicated by the Christmas feast: 'getting there' always provides logistical challenges - especially so this year with the snow and low temperatures - and also, in these times, financial challenges.
The reward is the whole family being together, however briefly, in our home where they all started out.
And, January brings with it the opportunity to 'pick oneself up, dust oneself off, start all over again' to parody the song.

Perhaps it is that, by February, I discover that, in fact, little has been changed by the promise of the New Year. One's own and the wider problems are much as they were and the ascent ahead appears to be as steep, if not steeper, than it was during the previous year.

But enough of this despond. - February is behind us and, now that March is in, there are many prospects that are undoubtedly cheering: not least that there is work on hand, there are entries in the order book and on 13 March I am bound for France, Thezan and the Dwyers, first to work but at the end of the month Sue and Brede, from next door, will join us for a short patch of R&R.

And, of course, the clocks go forward which means that instead of going to and returning from work in the dark, one will rise in daylight that will not be spent until one's day is nearly done.

So, upwards and onwards, I say.....................