Tag: bulbs

#365daysofbiking Rituals

Tuesday 4th January 2022 – This journal has never been about anything at all if it hasn’t been about watching the seasons change, and the anticipation of better days.

One ritual post I have made probably every year here is the photo of the first patch of daffodil shoots I come upon, in this case on a grass verge outside my workplace on a Darlaston industrial estate.

I say it every year. Because it needs saying. They know the light is coming. They have awoken, and are growing. Hang in there folks, spring will come and the daffodils are telling us not to give up hope.

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#365daysofbiking Signs of life

January 3rd – And then, on my way home, in a familiar spot on the edge of Clayhanger Common, some old pals have poopped up to join me in my anticipation of spring.

So glad you all made it, I shall watch your progress eagerly.

Only the second day back at work and already reasons to be cheerful!

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#365daysofbiking Stirring

January 4th – In Kings Hill Park again at lunchtime heading for B&Q, I stopped to note that ostensibly, it was very much winter, and the park looked as darkly green and growthless as it always does at this time every year.

But wait up.

Stop and look, and honey fungus is growing in the grass – and bedgraggled daisies are still very much in bloom. But better than these side effects of a so far warm winter, the spring flowers are coming now: They have stirred in the death and are sending green shoots upwards.

Soon, there will be flowers.

My heart sang.

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April 11th – A great day up until 4pm, then all hell broke loose. I returned home late, and was doubly slain by two separate punctures. I didn’t mind too much though, as the air was warm, the sun was out and well, it could have been worse.

What better than daffodils to cheer you up? The displays this year on Walsall’s verges and greenspaces have been terrific. This patch in Shelfield has been particularly gorgeous.

My compliments and thanks to the people who plant and tend them. They cheered up one weary, beleaguered cyclist this evening.

January 30th – Another sign of the season’s wheel inexorably rotating came to my attention tonight. Stopping to attend to a sticking gear cable in Shelfield, on the corner of the verge, just under a hedgerow, something is stirring. Quietly, determinedly, a yellow army is emerging. Using only the power of cellular hydraulic action and the mystical imperative for growth, some celestial trigger has kickstarted spring. Soon, the foot solders will be amongst us, bright, yellow and beautiful.

It’s started now. There’s no going back. This makes me very happy indeed.