I have recently discovered the prolific blogger: The Gentle Author. I cannot tell you whether said author is male or female.
It was with some trepidation that I tried to discover, for the benefit of this post; although with little real conviction on my part. Part of the charm of The Spitalfields Life Blogis that the author is anonymous.
I was captured and enraptured by the Blog's charming prose and exquisite photography. Hooked in by a post about an 86 year old man called Joseph Markovitch. Those who know me well will understand that I wept silent tears when I read it. I think we owe a lot to his generation, I fear that many do not realise how much.
It was the At the Spring Flower Show post that inspired me this week. I trained at the College next door and recall my father talking about the beauty of the displays and scents of the show.
Years before, he had worked close by and presumably visited during his lunch hour stroll. 'You really must try and go one day' he said, I'm ashamed to admit that I never have. The photo's in this post took me inside the hall but my father is no longer here to let him know. I looked wistfully out to the hellebores, narcissi, primroses and snowdrops in my own garden.
With the recent suggestion of Spring weather, we've started to see the emergence of displays that always confirm why I consider Spring my favourite season. I like to grasp onto the feeling of hope it inspires. Better weather, lighter evenings and the freshness and brightness of new growth pushing through the soil. Being on the cusp of March, I do acknowledge a caveat that the weather remains an untrustworthy companion.
Watching the snowdrops bobbing around in the wind, seeing the crocuses breaking through the compacted grass and reading The Gentle Author's horticultural post, I thought I should make some time to discover the displays in our woods and open spaces.
Under trees in parks, on the roundabout of a busy dual carriageway, around gravestones in an ancient church or in the gardens of our beautiful heritage. I understand that they will soon all disappear for another year.