Spring. 'Officially', the first of September (yesterday). 'Traditionally', in my family anyway, spring comes in mid-August, pretty much on my birth date, at the same time the first lambs are born. The early daffodils and the host of other spring yellow flowers are starting to emerge then, and they don't wait until September.
'Astronomically', Spring is not till later in September on the occasion of the Spring equinox. But as with so many pronouncements in academia, and officialdom, and just in the "rulz" - boy do the know-it-alls ever miss the boat.
Spring is here, and it's well underway guys.
This year we had a very cold winter in the south; the records say it was the coldest since recording began. The old-timers say it's been the coldest winter in living memory, and as I'm an old-timer now too, I agree. Bloody cold winter. I've not known it worse here in New Zealand.
So the change is dramatic. Spring has arrived like an express train, loud and violent.
The birds are raucous.
The yellow flowers are first. Forsythia, kowhai, daffs, soleil d'or, wattle. Shining like little suns.