A late afternoon walk on the lane, bitterly cold but I have the urge to see if there are more dog violets and I find that the one violet has now increased to two and three under the trees. I love their deep, velvety purple. A pink rosebud of bramble flower is closely curled among the rugged bramble leaves, and smaller buds there too but not yet out – either way not their normal flowering time. The lane is gaining in colour again. A glimpse of what is to come. A blue sky has been trying to be seen all day but grey cloud forces it back. It almost feels like snow as the lane darkens and a pale yellow light moves up from the lough. The sun now covered in mist, is watery and chilling. Silence, no birds only the sound of the water from the nearby mill stream. Time to go home as the a wind begins to pick up and the trees start murmuring their warning. Before Rosie the dog and I move far, rain starts, freezing daggers, reminding me and my ungloved hands that winter still rules.