I remember when I was a very little girl there was a fairy story my mother read to me. It told of how the fairies painted the sticky buds on the trees to protect the baby leaves from the frost. I thought of that tale when the dog and I were out for our pre-dawn wander. The buds are swelling, and reaching up, sure enough the tight little buds are sticky with sap.

There were celandines in the wood this morning, a sheltered little patch that seems to have stolen a march on spring. Their tiny, glossy petals were barely beginning to unfold their fragility to the dawn, but the brilliant yellow that showed against the green offered a promise.

There is promise in the sunshine today too. Not much warmth yet, but the skies are blue and bright, with a possibility, a mere hint, of warmer days to come…