Snowdrops

Hi Everyone, hope you have all had a good week.

We went for a walk in the gardens at St Fagans on Sunday, one of our favourite haunts, it was very cold and I was extremely glad that I had worn my gloves and hat. The Mallards were busy playing in the lake, or were they just paddling to keep warm?  The daffodils green shoots were warily poking up through the earth, but the snowdrops were resplendent along the banks beside the lakes and in the gardens, but as we walked through the gate into the orchard we were met by a lovely sight of the snowdrops round the Mulberry trees, I really wanted to take a picture but my hands were too cold despite my gloves, so very lovingly and gallantly Richard took off his gloves and took it for me, thank you so much for a wonderful picture. If you come to Cardiff, do go the St Fagan's, entry is free, but a charge is made for parking, by all means look around the museum at the restored historic buildings, but make sure you find time for the gardens, they are really lovely even at this time of the year.  I have picked out two poems for you this week, the first is by Ted Hughes, a rather stark picture of the snowdrop, whilst the second is by Wordsworth, less stark and a perfect contrast to Ted's offering, which do you prefer?  My week to come, to complete the fleece I started and start one of the dresses  I have just bought the material for, plus complete the mini carryall sewing bag ready for my craft groups, pictures when they are done.

Snowdrop by Ted Hughes

Now is the globe shrunk tight
Round the mouse’s dulled wintering heart.
Weasel and crow, as if moulded in brass,
Move through an outer darkness
Not in their right minds,
With the other deaths. She, too, pursues her ends,
Brutal as the stars of this month,
Her pale head heavy as metal.

TO A SNOWDROP   (Wordsworth 1819)

          LONE Flower, hemmed in with snows and white as they

          But hardier far, once more I see thee bend

          Like an unbidden guest. Though day by day,

          Thy forehead, as if fearful to offend,

          The rising sun, and on the plains descend;

          Storms, sallying from the mountain-tops, waylay

          Whose zeal outruns his promise! Blue-eyed May

          Yet art thou welcome, welcome as a friend
Shall soon behold this border thickly set

          On the soft west-wind and his frolic peers;
With bright jonquils, their odours lavishing  
          Nor will I then thy modest grace forget,

As always, thank you for joining me and have a wonderful week wherever in the world you are.  Love, Daisychain