A little frost-bedraggled, but unmistakably harbingers of spring. Snowdrops were always my mother's flower - even in Cumberland one could be pretty certain that they'd be out by her birthday, February 3rd, and these stuck their white heads up through the earth last week. I find it hard, and not very comfortable, to think that this is almost certainly the last year that I'll see these particular snowdrops blooming: I wish it wasn't illegal to import them into the US, at least as a private individual. It seems hard to get my head around the fact that I'll be leaving tomorrow, at all, even if I'll be back in seven weeks ...
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