At the foot of the garden stands an ornamental cherry tree, and every year I watch it go through its phases with each season. For the last few weeks I've waited for the outspread branches to become adorned with blossom, thus signifying the arrival of spring, but alas, when I left home for Spud's a fortnight ago they were still bereft of all cover.
I returned home a couple of hours ago, overjoyed to see my family again after the long coach journey, but unable to deny the dull ache in my heart. I spied the tree from my brother's bedroom window, clothed in sprays of white blossom, and raced outside to photograph it. It was after 7, and still light. For all the rain showers we've had today, spring is here!