What a Difference A Day Makes

I took this photo last Friday. The sun was shining, bees were humming among the blossoms, and it felt as though Spring was finally on her way.

What a difference a day makes.

This was Saturday morning. Overnight an arctic blast had come through, the temperature dropping to a face-freezing minus one, snow falling. It hadn’t quite begun to settle on the ground at this point, but it was resting on the tree branches where, less than twenty-four hours before, it had felt like Spring.

Nature has a way of doing the unexpected, doesn’t she?

A day later, this was the scene in my back garden. However, today temperatures are starting to rise, the MiniBeast withdrawing back to the frozen east where it belongs. The spring equinox is almost upon us, and there will be more blossom and bees soon…

…I hope.


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#writephoto – The Spring

the-silver-well-3It’s Thursday, which means it’s time for another lovely #writephoto prompt, courtesy of Sue Vincent. Here’s my response to this week’s image:

Squat and heavy, the stone sat next to the little spring, which was all boxed in and bricked up, water pooling, corralled, channelled, rather than roaming free.

The stone had been there so long it remembered a time when the water ran through green grass, from a natural pool lined with tiny flowers in curled leaves, the earth so dark and rich it was almost black.

The stone had held a different shape then. More curves, less angles. It had been chosen for its shape, placed there with careful hands, venerated and looped with flowers and ribbons. Now all that adorned it was moss, and the hands that touched it were no longer so careful, using sharp metal and blunt force to control its shape as they had controlled the spring, wanting to impose order on the land.

But the water still flowed, still clear and cold, tasting of deep caverns where light never shone, where dark towers of stone held crystal roofs high. The stone remembered being there, deep in the earth, in the place where the water was born.

And now, bit by bit, it flowed back there again, the spring taking it home.


If you enjoyed this post and want to read more, you can find me on Twitter @AuthorHelenJ,ย  Facebook, Instagram and Pinterest. Plus my latest book release, A Thousand Rooms, is now available on Amazon.

The Turning Of The Season

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Spring is here, at least according to the calendar, and with it the desire to wear something new, tired of the same old boots and puffa jacket, winter’s uniform of black and grey.

It seems the earth feels the same way. Perhaps that’s why spring is so gorgeous, the world clothed in blossom and wildflowers and bright green, buds blooming wherever they get the chance, the sky washed clean clear blue, light like pale golden wine slanting through the clouds.

I realise it’s not Spring everywhere. In Australia, where I used to live, autumn is in full glow, the nights growing cool though the days are still warm, grapes ripening on the hillsides, harvest bounty to be had before winter’s chill arrives. And it does, believe it or not – it was cold enough for frost where we lived down south, the ocean icy with currents from the Antarctic, winter storms pounding the jagged coast.

And so the seasons turn. Happy Spring (or Autumn), everyone!

White Rabbits

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The first day of February has blown in blustery and clear, hints of blue in the swirling grey clouds. Temperatures here have been unseasonably warm for some time, daffodils and snowdrops appearing much earlier than usual, yet today feels more like Spring than any other so far this year.

Our neighbour’s tree, still holding a tattered birds nest from last year, is now covered with blossom. A dusting of white like snow from a distance, yet up close all delicate petals and yellow stamens, portents of fruit to come.

And I started the day, as I usually do, by saying ‘White Rabbits.’ My mother told me years ago that, if it’s the first thing you say on the first of the month, it’s considered good luck. There are varying sources for this tradition, which seems to be of British origin – apparently saying ‘Rabbit, rabbit, rabbit,’ is also appropriate.

Ali Isaac has written a lovely post about today being Imbolc, the first day of Celtic Spring. As for me, I’m also writing. A Thousand Rooms has now gone to several beta readers, a couple of new ideas are taking shape, plus I’ve the fourth Ambeth book to start editing. A busy year beckons and, now that the January blues are past, it’s time to move forward.

January was also my biggest month ever on this blog, which is really nice! If you’ve followed along this month, welcome, and thanks so much for joining me ๐Ÿ™‚