Keener than ever to get some spring in my step

I OWE the snowdrops an apology. I really do. A couple of weeks ago I reported what weedy specimens they are this year, with tiny flowers.

It was true then, but I had clearly not given them time to cope with the cold snap and grey, sunless skies.

All it took was a couple of warm days and a bit of sunshine to bring them out in all their trefoil, pearly-white glory.

It is a sight that brings such comfort to us old winter survivors.

And now the crocuses are appearing, also not very impressive, although welcome all the same.

But where are the primroses? They’re usually bursting out with colour in these pre-spring days, yet not a sign of their creamy white and yellow flowers.

Lockdown 3 has made me look more avidly for signs of better weather and longer days, so maybe I’m asking too much of Mother Nature. She will go her own way and in her own good time.

Daffodils on the roadside verges will be here soon, as long as they’re not crushed by monster lorries careering down our country lane.

They’re tippers filled with spoil for an artificial hill being built by a local farmer, or should I say “agricultural land developer” because that’s what too many of them are. And particularly so in desirable parts of the country like Airedale, where land is at a premium and they can make more from housebuilding than from sheep.

If I hear just one more Dales farmer say “They’re not making land any more” I shall forgo lamb for a year.

Or a week, anyway.

I’ve not seen any new lambs round here yet, but Andy the bus driver has.

So it won’t be long before they’re bouncing round the fields like they’ve got springs in their legs.