COUNTRY LIFE
At Last
Never within most memories have so many people in Britain given a more hearty welcome to the first approach of spring. Farmers had not seen their land, much less touched it, for about two months, nor had stock grazed or poultry scrabbled. Gardeners had sought occupation in vain; and in vain we all looked for those pleasing little indications of spring that are hinted in the spikes of the bulbs, the subtle flowers of the hazel, or the leaves of the honeysuckle, in the purpling of the elms or in the happy chuckle of the dunnock. All was changed in the twinkling of an eye as in a Siberian spring. Snowdrops and aconites flowered, and the nuts, if you looked close enough, were crimson with pistillate flowers as well as yellow with stamenite. Even the tits sang. The wells were full, plough and spade were at work. The frost seemed a thing of the distant past, till you tried to dig up a parsnip, and found at its rooted end a steely layer of soil and frost crystals. It was not yet spring for the worms and wire- worms.
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