Snowdrops.

Out walking recently under leaden skies with the cold still nipping at our fingers, we searched the hedgerows and the wood eagerly for those first signs of spring. We mark the change of season boldly, as if we can tether it, hold it here securely to give us hope for renewal and growth. But nature's Spring is far more subtle. Her change is quiet-hidden beneath the tangle of faded stems, softly peeking from beneath past layers of leaves, the hidden treasure is spotted, the first Snowdrops! These beautiful flowers with their sense of wounded gentleness, are a simple gift, looking truly magical against the stark backdrop of the sleeping woodland.

                                                                          Snowdrop

                                        A pale and pining girl, head bowed, heart gnawed,
                                        Whose figure nods and shivers in a shawl
                                        Of fine white wool, has suddenly appeared
                                        In the damp woods, as mild and mute as snowfall.
                                        She may not last. She has no strength at all,
                                        But stoops and shakes as if she’d stood all night
                                        On one bare foot, confiding with the moonlight.

                                        One among several hundred clear-eyed ghosts
                                        Who get up in the cold and blink and turn
                                        Into these trembling emblems of night frosts ......

                                                                                           -Alice Oswald