Winter’s Charm and Hints of Spring
After several days of that grey, uninspiring kind of weather that can make winter here feel endlessly bleak, I was reminded that even in the dreariest moments, beauty still lingers—if only we take the time to notice it.
A walk through Huelgoat Forest led me to the Mare aux Sangliers, glistening softly after the rain in late December. The atmosphere was quiet, the air cool and damp, and everything seemed washed clean.
On the forest floor, I found a fallen oak branch adorned with delicate lichens—fragile, intricate forms shaped by wind and time. One day I hope to identify them properly, but for now, I marvel at their quiet presence.
In the garden, a single Christmas Rose (Helleborus niger) had just unfurled. It stood pristine and fresh, untouched by the heavy rain that had spoiled its earlier blooms—a gentle reminder of resilience and renewal.
Nearby, the Chinese Witch Hazel (Hamamelis mollis ‘Pallida’) had begun to flower, its crinkled yellow petals like crepe paper, catching the light and releasing a faint, sweet perfume—subtle and elusive, but unmistakably there.
And then, an unexpected delight: a solitary bloom of Iris reticulata ‘Katharine Hodgkin’. All the others are still barely peeking above the soil, yet here she was—early, elegant, and entirely welcome. Why this one flower chose to arrive now, I can't explain. But what a joy to find her. Add to these signs the emerging Crocus, Narcissus, and—believe it or not—Tulips, and it becomes clear that Spring is quietly making her approach. The days are getting longer, and though I know more grey skies will come, there’s a shift in the air. Time to open the seed catalogues and dream of what’s to come.
What Are the Chances?
In this quiet, remote corner of a muddy field in Brittany, I’ve recently acquired some unexpected neighbours—and to my surprise, they’re Scottish! Five of them in total, all female, all unrelated… and curiously, all named Angus.
They’re just six months old and reportedly from Aberdeen—though none of them offered any confirmation when I was introduced earlier.
As for the cat? Let’s just say he’s not impressed.
Endless Rain… But At Least It’s Not Snow!
The rain just doesn’t seem to stop. Surely, there must have been a break at some point in the past few days—but either I was asleep or simply didn’t notice. In fairness, there was about a thirty-minute pause this morning, and possibly some clearer spells yesterday too… so perhaps I’m being a little dramatic.
At this very moment, I can hear it tapping steadily against the windowpanes. That’s still preferable to Monday night, when I was woken by the sound of it dripping onto the floor—right next to my head! (There’s a bucket in place now, ready and waiting. It only happens when the rain is torrential and the wind comes from just the right—or rather, wrong—direction.)
Naturally, this soggy spell has meant I’ve accomplished next to nothing. Though in that rare half-hour of dry weather, I did finally manage to plant a few pots of tulips that had been waiting patiently for weeks. I’ve read that tulips actually prefer being planted once the cold sets in—they’re said to be less prone to disease. A handy little fact that nicely excuses my procrastination.
And before the rain took over completely, here’s a glimpse of the garden as seen from my window last week:
The Miscanthus catching the light—yes, actual sunshine!
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