Every year in winter I forget what spring is like. Here in Pembroke, and throughout the county, the first harbinger is a white froth of Blackthorn blossom – before the first greening of trees. Yet white is cool; a chaste colour. Later, when the first young green leaves in the hedgerows peep, a sense of warmth to come is quickened and our spirits lift.
At home, I feed the garden birds until the end of March. It is a rare treat to catch a glimpse of the wren.
buoyant winter bird
hidden in t