Big, thick, wet flakes of snow, like damp duckdown, are descending on the garden. The grass is white. I may not have an Inuit 400 word vocabulary for snow, but even I can tell it’s not ‘I really mean it’, snow: this sort of woolly, flaky stuff forms when the temperature is in the immediate vicinity of freezing. But I hate the bloody sight of it. After this last winter, I just hate the sight of BLOODY SNOW even if it is not, rationally considered, paranoia inducing snow. It’s still white. I want things to be green, please. Very green, the faster the better. Did I say the iris reticulata are out, making a brave show of bright blue? And the first garden (as opposed to greenhouse) daffodil is showing a hint of yellow.