Before the Blossom

Notes from February | the month of cake

February has felt like the first flush of spring. The mild weather and the buds starting to appear on branches has made my own body stir; I’ve felt the appeal of coming out of my own period of hibernation. In my constant search for tiny thrills I have been on green-watch: looking out for the first arrowheads of the smallest leaves starting to peep through.

The birds are starting to pair up, twirling around each other in ribbon-like flutters. The coo-ing and trilling has been a welcome soundtrack; accompanying the slow motion picture of life beginning again.

What I will miss from winter is the wild clematis. The very last of its smoky, feathery fronds are clinging onto the hedgerows and I couldn’t resist gathering a few lengths of its brittle vines to make into a wreath. Wild clematis is a mass of tangles and its refusal to conform into a neat, round structure is part of its beauty. As is the way that each downy plume catches the light, transforming into ghostly, silvery orbs. It’s known by the most wonderful names such as traveller’s joy, old man’s beard, bedwine (from “betwined”), shepherd’s delight and my favourite: smokewood.

Wild clematis aside, it’s an uplifting time moving towards Spring Proper. I read an interesting article in The Guardian earlier this month. The author suggested that we’re heading for a spring full of an abundance of blossoms “after a heatwave followed by a cold early February set the trees up for peak condition blooms.” I felt such a mental boost when I read that. The surge of colourful petals always feels like it lasts far too short a time, and I almost end up in panic mode trying to record every second of it before it fades again for another year.

In the night sky earlier this month the full Snow Moon was crystal clear and lit up the horizon for miles around. Last week I saw the planet Venus for the first time. It was aligned with Jupiter and the moon (which was in its storybook crescent phase). This type of alignment is a good omen I’m told. Venus was brighter than I expected, but all three looked quietly dazzling as they tapered up and outwards into the Milky Way.

Last night C and I went out in search of the Aurora Borealis. It had been seen as far down as the south of the UK the previous night, but it was always going to be a bit of a stretch to see it from Surrey; particularly amongst so much light pollution. Even so I couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed at not being able to see the lights when they had been so close. One day….

I turned another year older this month: gradually making my way through my forties. You can read more about how I feel about this here. February seems to be a month associated with drabness, but I really love it. Not because of my birthday, but because it falls at the perfect time of anticipation and promise: we’re so close to lighter days, greenery, flowers and all the fizzy joy that comes with it.

February comes from the Latin word februa, “to cleanse.” The Roman calendar month of Februarius was named for Februalia, which was a month-long festival of purification and atonement that took place during this period. It is thought that this festival was later incorporated into Lupercalia. Solmōnaþ or Sol-Monath (modern English: month of the hearthcakes) was the Anglo-Saxon name for the month of February. I can’t think of a better meaning for February than the Month of Cakes. I’ve certainly had a lot of them in the past couple of weeks.

On a post-birthday outing, and during a towpath wander on my way to a music evening I was distracted by someone typing out stories for passers-by on a vintage typewriter. I didn’t ask for a story, but as a Collector of Old Things I was really quite taken with their magnificent machines (one of which is pictured). The satisfying clunk of each letter being pressed onto paper took me back to the days when my mother would tap away on hers.

Presently I’m immersing myself back into the daunting world of home recording (music). I’m not a natural with tech and it’s really making my brain hurt. If I can get the hang of it the benefits are huge though; so I am determined to stick to it. Writing songs and playing them live occasionally is one thing; getting music out into the world to a wider audience is a completely different skill set. It’s the difference between writing a blog post for family and friends, and writing an article for a national newspaper. Perseverance it is then.