Spring can't be too far off when you see buds like this waiting for the winter months to pass.
The introduction of a cup of tea - a soap opera cliché - as a solution to the trials of everyday life is part of the way we think about England. So I am surprised, the other day, when reading Les Thibault by Roger Martin du Gard, to find the author, who won the Nobel Prize for literature in 1937, using the a cup of tea in a French setting. "Laissez-moi vous faire une tasse de thé," says a character, a doctor as it happens, to his brother who has got into trouble and needs to be calmed.
The crow, which I have come to call Mr Crow, because he seems so human in his ponderous habits, is back in the Grove. I was just thinking that I hadn't seen him for a few days, when he flies in front of me and, his wings spread, flops to the ground. He has part of a sandwich in his beak which he proceeds to demolish on the grass, pecking at the ground in between beak fulls, perhaps to augment his meal with some nourishing worms.
Worm sandwich, yum!
Those rhodey buds are such heartening little things.
A lovely post, thoug I would take issue with your opening sentence: it would have been true once, even a short time ago, but we've had buds like that since before the onset of winter!
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