gouache. collage. pencil on board
 
Sometimes in the cold early months of the year it seems as if spring will never come.  It’s always dark and rainy and grey clouds hang low over everything.  So then I turn to planting spring bulbs in my willow pattern bowl and in the warm kitchen I watch as they emerge day by day from their brown papery cases.  It’s their promise that spring is on its way.  In the garden I feed the birds and then I can watch the goldfinches as they sing and squabble around the feeder and spread their brilliant colours over the bare trees.