It feels a little cheeky, having entirely skipped the winter, but I am marvelling at spring all the same. The bulbs in the park in town are piercing through the earth, nothing can stop them.
The buds of baby pine cones on our tree are barely visible, but they are there.
Felix picked handfuls of the old pinecones yesterday as we picnicked in the garden.
It was the first time we’ve got out there this year. Antonia slept.
Whitby came to join the party.
Felix was so pleased when Antonia woke up again, wearing his old red coat. I thought of all our other springs in this place. Baby Felix peering up at blossoms. Toddler Felix helping build the sandbox. Or playing with the pinecones. Three year old Felix cycling round the deck, thinking about the baby inside me, telling me he missed me before he was born. And now there is another spring, a new one, and I am glad.