No matter how many daffodils are nodding in the breeze the breeze they are nodding in is decidedly nippy, and the little lambs leaping in the fields need those woolly coats.
It may look nice if the sun's out but it's all best seen through a window, and preferably one not too far from my own cosy hearth.
So this year when we are experiencing the worst freakishly cold weather for decades, (even snow further north!) am I looking forward to a snug Easter at home? Am I buffaloes! No, this year we have decided to go down to Cornwall for a few days to take in the Eden Project.
Of course the suitcase will be bulging with all the different layers that life in spring-time Britain normally demands, - and then some. Thank goodness we are going by car and nobody need ever know that I would rather carry all of my wardrobe with me than risk being cold.
Because we are both Welsh we take getting wet as a matter of course.
Anyway I'll let you know what occurred when I get back.
This small painting was buried in my untidy studio. Looking at it now I think it is well suited to being an "Easter" picture, although it is really one of a series that started with seeing the winter sun coming through some trees in a wood near Kenilworth.
We use the word "buried" quite often just as I have done about the painting, when something we are looking for is hidden amongst other stuff, but the only time we are likely to use the word "resurrection" is when something's been brought back from disuse and obscurity. Like an old skirt that's come back into fashion maybe.
Strange that when Easter has far more to do with life out of death "resurrection" than anything else, the things which spring to mind when we mention it are usually "chocolate eggs", "crowded airports", or "It's too early to be going away".
May you know these Easter Blessings in abundance.