Snowdrops

Today I met my dear friend C for a walk around Gosford Estate which nestles between Aberlady and Longniddry.

After just a few moments my eyes were drawn towards the grassy undergrowth and the huge white heads of snowdrops hanging over dark green stalks. I’m not sure I have seen such large clusters before and, had I not been so enthralled by my companion’s chat I would have stopped to photograph them. In fact – note to self – I will return over the weekend with my Lumix digital SLR and try to capture, what to me, is the true indication that Spring is just around the corner.

The walk was quite muddy under foot, and the main gardens around the ponds were closed due to the unusually wet weather we have endured recently. Undeterred, we meandered our way among the paths, skirting the edge of Gosford House, through a small copse, and then headed back towards the North East entrance, overlooking Longniddry bents.

In spite of my tease that we would not be having coffee and cake, that is exactly what we had in the Gosford Bothy. C opted for an incredibly moist carrot cake while I had a delicious, buttery and syrupy flapjack.

Being with C was the perfect way to end the week and begin the weekend. I honestly can’t remember the last time I laughed so loudly and so easily (maybe in Venice, after several glasses of wine and much double entendre).

Although C and I haven’t seen each other since September, we keep in touch. We became friends 6 years ago and it is a friendship that, like the snowdrops will survive whatever emotional turmoil life has to throw at us as the years roll by. It is fair to say that we just ‘get each other’ – hence our mutual nicknames of Twinny.

Snowdrops – a poem

Remaining dormant, storing energy and hope,

waiting.

Frost, rain, snow, and sleet

cannot deter Nature’s mighty pull.

Slowly unfurling, poking through a mossy bed,

then weighed down by beauty

that magnificent white head hangs down,

bowing magnificently.