I start looking for signs of Spring from about mid-January. First it's the extra minutes of daylights that slowly add up. Then, as February approaches I find myself scanning well
known areas for patches of white. No, not snow but Snowdrops. The garden at the
end of the next road, the hedgerow of a field on the way to Malton, the approach to New Earswick from Yearsley. I know them all. Of course, the best place to see Snowdrops round here is Burton Agnes Hall. This beautiful Elizabethan mansion is situated on the A614 York to Bridlington road and its woodland is host to a great
carpet of Snowdrops every spring. They are so dense that it’s almost like looking at a covering of snow. I am so envious; I only ever seem to produce nine little flowers.
Thankfully, February is a short month and as the days get progressively longer so the signs of spring increase. The birds are more active, you might be lucky and hear a Skylark, and you feel the warmth if the sun shows its face. Primroses start appearing on banks and in sheltered spots. If you take a walk on the cliffs at Scarborough you come across little pockets of them and, like snowdrops, they can bring cheer to the dullest of days.
Scarborough’s Peasholm Park is a lovely place for a walk in spring. To appreciate the layout fully you should enter the park from the top of the Glen in Northstead. Then you can wind your way down the paths that follow a pretty stream to a pool and over the bridge with a wishing well, to the lake. The landscaping includes some beautiful bushes and trees which put on a wonderful display of colour in the autumn. The other attraction (especially for children) are the squirrels which scamper up and down the trees and seem quite tame.
Based on an oriental theme, the area opens into a delightful lake with rowing boats and a perimeter walk. It was created in the Edwardian era and must be one of the loveliest parks of its kind in the country. The island in the middle has quite steep sides with paths winding
round to the top where sits a magnificent pagoda and waterfall. I remember being taken there as a child and that feeling of enchantment as we crossed the footbridge. It was evening time and little lanterns were strung along the paths. I felt sure there must be fairies hiding in there somewhere. I still love the park. It is my real go-to place for Primroses and there must be magic somewhere because every spring the island is covered with them. Their pretty pale-yellow heads turned up to greet the sun. It is a sight to behold, but sadly I will miss them this year due to the C. virus and restrictions on going out.
Have you ever noticed how, in what seems to be the depths of winter, certain trees just burst in to blossom? The petals look so fragile in the cold winter winds. And then there’s the Forsythia with their bright yellow flowers, tempting any early bees out foraging. But if it's Crocuses you are looking for, then head to Harrogate where they decorate the Strays every year and look as pretty as any picture.
I once visited Bodnant Gardens in North Wales. It was a bitterly cold spring afternoon and it was no surprise when it started to snow. We walked along paths among Camellias and Magnolias dressed in white blossom and with the snow gently falling, it was breath taking. A memory I shall always treasure.
Daffodils are Mother Nature’s heralds. With beautiful yellow trumpet heads, they burst on to the scene and seem to say, ‘Hey, wake up. Spring is here! It is quite obvious how much as a nation we love them as they are planted everywhere that will make a show. Usually coming into towns and villages, or on the roadsides. I’ve even spotted them along the motorways; now how did they get there unless someone planted them. When I was little, we often rented a cottage at Easter in Rosedale or Farndale and I think even Wordsworth would have been impressed by the display of Daffodils running along the banks of the river and down by the Abbey.
York comes alive with Daffodils in the spring. The Bar Walls are covered in them like a happy cloak of gold. All down Lord Mayor’s Walk, round by the station and Nunnery Lane and up the steep slopes of Clifford’s Tower. They are so famous that people from away will ask me if they are in bloom and I’m happy to respond by sending a photo or two.
By the time the clocks go forward spring is in full swing. On warm, sunny days we can see big fat bumble bees and the occasional butterfly; I don’t know where they go to when we have a sudden cold snap and it snows. Weeping Willows and Hawthorn that have been bare all winter, without warning start to green up taking away the barren, bleak look of winter.
Of course, spring wouldn’t be spring without lambs and don’t we love to see them in the fields. Let’s hear it for the shepherds and farmers who stay up all night to see them safely into the world.
Easter is the second biggest festival in the year of the Christian calendar and it is appropriate that it falls in spring. A time of rebirth and rejoicing. I understand that the Greeks celebrate Easter more so than Christmas. The churches are decorated with flowers and preparations are made for the processions which take place at midnight. Lit by thousands of people carrying candles and creating a river of gold, it must be a sight to behold. It is traditional to return home and eat Magiritsa soup after the procession, which is made from lamb offal, rice and lemon. Another traditional food is Tsoureki (sweet bread) with red painted eggs decorated with a cross. If I had a 'bucket list' being in Greece at Easter would definitely be on it.
But we also have some Easter delights. Hot cross buns, one a penny two a penny, hot cross buns, delicious with a slurp of butter. Eggs dyed and decorated and taken out to be rolled down a hill or hidden in the garden for a treasure hunt. I always remember the video clip of the little girl collecting eggs. As she bends down to collect an egg, the last one she had put in her basket falls out. The puzzled look on her face as she sees that her collection is not growing as she thought it should, is adorable.
But I think the real favourites are probably Chocolate Easter eggs. The confectioners start making them a long time before Easter and we must eat them in their millions. Big ones, small ones, even Bunnies. If you think the British eat enough then you should see the displays in the shops of places like Bruges. Not just eggs, but whole scenes made out of chocolate. Just looking in a shop window leaves you drooling.
We were once given an Easter egg by Bonnets of Scarborough. It was huge, absolutely delicious, the envy of all my friends and took weeks to eat. Now that’s what I call an Easter egg!
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