Spring makes its own statement, so loud and clear that the gardener seems to be only one of the instruments, not the composer.

I took this snapshot of our neighbour, a vigorous old gentleman, who is preparing the ground to plant his seeds.
Maybe I hoped to convey a feeling of normality, with the seasons which follow their rhythms.

Charles Dickens wrote in "Great Expectations":

"It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade."

And his description suits perfectly the weather we have here today.



Nature keeps on with its great performances, ignoring the vicissitudes of people. We might see in that either a positive message or a sign of the minuscule role we have, when we are facing what we cannot control.

I can wave at my neighbour only from distance now, and we all speak louder to hear each other. Things change and we have hardly the time to get used to that.

It looks like a glorious day of spring, and objectively it is.
But I cannot enjoy it, for reasons which have nothing to do with this picture.
So I won't mention them.