The Gentle Shift
The transition between seasons is rarely abrupt. Light changes first. It lingers in the afternoon and carries a different warmth, subtle yet unmistakable. The air, once sharp and spare, begins to soften. Even before visible growth, the atmosphere of the garden feels altered. This is the beginning of renewal.
Growth Resumes
Across borders and beds, signs of life reappear. Fresh shoots press through the soil. Branches that seemed lifeless reveal swelling buds. The palette, muted for months, slowly regains depth and variation. There is a sense of continuity rather than beginning. The garden resumes its rhythm, responding to cues older than any gardener.
The Roses Awaken
Roses, so patient through the colder months, respond with particular elegance. New shoots emerge, often tinted bronze or crimson, catching the light in a way that feels both delicate and assured. Leaves unfurl. Structure gives way to movement. Soon, buds form along the stems, small, precise, full of quiet potential.
A Season of Promise
Spring carries anticipation unlike any other time of year. Not the fullness of summer, but the promise of it. Each day brings small change. A little more growth, a little more colour, a little more life. The garden feels poised, as though gathering itself for the abundance to come.
The Return of Presence
With warmer days comes a renewed invitation to step outside. Paths beckon. Soil warms beneath the hand. Tasks once postponed become pleasures again. Tending, planting, observing. The gardener, like the garden, returns gently to motion.
Light, Warmth, and Time
What defines this season is not spectacle, but harmony. Light lengthens. Warmth builds. Time, steady and unhurried, allows growth to reveal itself at its own pace. The transformation is gradual, yet deeply felt.
Beauty Awakens
The garden opens once more. Leaves freshen. Buds loosen. Fragrance prepares to drift on the air. Spring does not announce itself loudly. It unfolds. Beauty awakens.








