There are no cardinals singing sweetly in our backyard early mornings, these last few days. The weather has taken a turn, this early March, toward the very cold end of the winter-weather spectrum. The birds huddle for shelter from the harsh winds and icy cold wherever they can. Squirrels still busy themselves running across the back fence, from there to our side door where they will find peanuts waiting for them on the steps. Their fresh pawprints in the snow reveal their active presence, but we also see them streaking across the fence, from our view out the breakfast room sliding glass doors.

The garden lies hushed under its burden of snow and ice. We can always tell how cold it is by glancing at the rhododendrons; their leaves react instantly to the cold, shrivelling and closing up like tight spears. And the magnolia buds look tight and miserable, in the cold. The hemlock and the holly look just fine. It has been years since they were carefully wrapped in snow blankets to ensure they survived our winters.

They haven't been wrapped protectively in at least four years now and they somehow manage to get through the winter to flourish into life beautifully once spring has arrived. At this time of year thoughts begin to turn to spring. Even though the temperature dropped to minus-20-degrees Celsius last night, greeting us at minus-16-degrees this morning, with the forecast warning that it will be colder even the coming night....

And I wonder how many of the bulbs that I planted in the late fall will nudge their way to springing out of the thawing earth, to give us a colourful display of flowers in the months to come...