Every year it's a different date. Last year it was February 19th. It has been as late as 23rd March. One freaky year it was late December. This year it's today, the first primrose, and the official start of spring on the croft.
Winter is over, so we have migrated to the caravan at the shore. It is a shock to be back to life at ambient temperatures after months in a well-insulated cabin with stove, but waking to the dawn light on the loch is the reward. As well as the move, other spring activity has begun: potatoes are
chitting, the brussels sprouts seeds are sown, the onion sets are in the
ground. I look at the list of winter jobs and think, well, next year...
Of course, we have been known to chicken out and return to our winter quarters. March often throws us some pretty ferocious weather, but even if it proves to be premature, it feels good to declare the winter season closed. It has been milder than usual, with fewer storms than we often get and we had a
mind-blowing stretch of good weather in February which made it feel much
shorter than it sometimes does. But it was long, nevertheless. The primroses are so welcome.
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