"I find myself getting up earlier and earlier each day, intoxicated by the colours and shapes and smells of the spring. Every year it's like seeing it for the first time: the vibrant yellows and blues of daffodils and scillas, here and there the brilliant red of an early tulip, overhead the white foam of plum and pear blossom.
The air is a tantalising multi-layered compound of scents: hyacinths, grass, the foxy stench of crown imperials, the aroma of moist sun-warmed soil (like hot-cross buns straight from the oven - yeasty, spicy, full of promise), the smell of daffodils, too - the aniseed of the big doubles, the mossy 'green' smell of the little pseudonarcissus, the freesia-like perfume of the double campernelles. Somehow I never really believe it will happen, and when it does, my dreary winter spirits rise like the bubbles in champagne."
From The Morville Year
