Violet is for faithfulness................

Which in me shall abide

Hoping likewise that from your heart 

You will not let it slide

It seems that each year the voilet chooses her time badly to bring forth her blooms from her leaf-strewn abode. The day before the harsh winds and rains enveloped us, the first delicate flowers could be seen gracing the barren-banks of the lanes. They looked so fragile, and yet, amazingly, they withstood such horrendous weather: where the daffodils were burnt and withered by the wind, the violets looked pristine, as though washed and polished ready for the Easter church parade.   As I walk the lanes, everywhere I look along the bankings, there is a scattering of purple petals, looking like confetti left over after a wedding.  Perhaps  this is the time when Nature renews her vows with the Earth. 

The poem is "A Nosegay Always Sweet" by William Hunnis

Renewal

For the past few years we have had no destinct Spring season: Autumn has slipped into Spring, with Winter barely waving as he passed. There has been no real renewal, as many plants never truly died off.  This year was different though.  At the beginning of the year, Autumn finally waved goodbye, as Winter swept in with a harshness that has not been seen for many a moon.   Jack Frost repeatedly visited us, freezing the ground hard.  The birds flooded in to the feeders, desperate for energy from sunflower seeds and fat balls.  And all the plants withered and died.  No more Pink Campions brightening the hedgerows, no early Lesser Celandines turning their yellow faces to the sun, just barren land, brown dry grass and dead leaves.

And then Spring danced back in, covering us with her colourful cloak of beauty.

To see a dead withered branch, suddenly sprout a tuft of new green leaves, is truly awe inspiring. A shoot of new life, coming from bare soil, lifts the spirits and gives a sense of renewal to the soul.  And the first budding flowers are like manna from Heaven.