The light filtered in through the window at around 6am this morning.
Willow catkins stood out on the tall sticks that jabbed up into the lightning sky.
Arcturus was the last star blinking in the dawn sky, as drawing the blind scared the fox off the front driveway.
He was there cleaning up the remainder of the dinner I had scattered last evening.
The days and nights are almost equal in length.
The Equinox approaches.
Seeds are breaking through the earth, Primroses have opened and the beginnings of Bluebells are carpeting green in the Fairy Wood.
Ribes flowers are plumping up their blossom to tempt the bees from hibernation.
The cold morning brings the birds out from the trees and onto the frozen ground, hungrily seeking sustenance.
Further down the gardens, tall, straight stems of Willow beckons cutting and stacking into neat bundles, ready for basket making.
The day begins…
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