The narcissi seem to think it’s spring!

It may be 8 degrees Celsius on a sheltered wall outdoors and, with the additional chill factor from the strong winds that sweep unhindered through the garden, it could quite possibly be even colder. Nevertheless, the narcissus bulbs that I planted in autumn have been brave enough to display their blooms. Two days ago the first of the buds unfurled, and when the narcissi are out, can spring be far behind?

The cyclamen bulbs that I planted in autumn among the limestone outcroppings are also beginning to awaken. The heart-shaped leaves are charming at every stage of their unfurling, and once fully expanded, they hardly need flowers to attract my attention — the intricate marbling on their surfaces and the sumptuous red underneath are more than enough to catch my eye.

The garden hasn’t been entirely bereft of flowers this winter. The Euryops have provided continuous cheering bursts of colour. Since the summer, they’ve been in non-stop bloom, and although their daisy-like blooms are nothing unusual, nor do they have any scent to speak of, still it is such a delight to see their bright yellow faces daily, unfazed by the chilling winds that have been our constant companion this winter.

The lavender (Lavandula dentata) has been in constant bloom since the summer as well, in contrast to last year when it went into a sulk all winter long with the snow and hail.

As I end this post, the wind has died down, and in the welcome warmth of the afternoon sun (four degrees warmer now than at midday), overwintering common redstarts (like smaller sparrows with red underbellies), together with sparrows, thrushes, and tits, are taking advantage of the lull and are foraging busily among the bushes and the grass.

This winter seems to be milder than last year’s, and I suppose that’s the reason the lavender, bougainvillea, the wild scabious and snapdragon, as well as a hardy verbena have kept the Euryops company this year.  I say ‘seems’ because there is still February — usually the coldest month — to contend with. And who knows what it may bring? I am fervently hoping for more rain as we’ve had so little so far. The narcissi and cyclamen may be presaging an early spring, but the return of chilling winds and a drop in temperature has made me think otherwise.