The Frightening Sunshine of February

There was an article in the online Guardian the other day, asking if anyone else was worried by this strangely warm February.     Yes.  It is a bit worrying, especially if it is going to be followed by an icy March.

I wrote a poem/verse about another warm February many years ago, in my poetic era.

FEBRUARY 1986, SHEFFIELD

by me

Go back, you foolish little bulb

 Winter hasn’t gone

 Don't be fooled by this warm February sun

 Put those twigs back, reckless little bird

 March is still to come

 Its killing frosts will drop you

 One by one.

I see that I never found a title for it, just the date, which is quite useful actually.  But I doubt that February was as warm as this.

John Clare wrote a poem about this kind of February too.   I shall blog it, even though its going to put my own effort in the shade.

It begins like this:  

The snow has left the cottage top;

The thatch moss grows in brighter green;

And eaves in quick succession drop,

Where grinning icicles have been,

Pit-patting with a pleasant noise 

In tubs set by the cottage-door

While ducks and geese, with happy joys,

Plunge in the yard-pond brimming o'er

The sun peeps through the window-pane;

Which children mark with laughing eye,

And in the wet street steal again

o tell each other spring is nigh:

and it ends like this:

While south winds thaw; but soon again

Frost breathes upon the stiffening stream

And numbs it into ice: the plain

Soon wears its mourning garb of white;

And icicles, that fret at noon,

Will eke their icy tails at night

Beneath the chilly stars and moon.

Nature soon sickens of her joys,

And all is sad and dumb again.

Save merry shouts of sliding boys

About the frozen furrowed plain.

The foddering-boy forgets his song,

And silent goes with folded arms;

And croodling shepherds bend along,

Crouching to the whizzing storms.

https://www.poetrynook.com/poem/february-28

This morning we, the Captain and myself, went for a walk in Highdown Gardens. They are full of crocus and daffodil at the moment, all in dappled shade under a cloudless harebell-blue sky.

I hope I will tackle Paperwork Mountain this afternoon, and have a housework day tomorrow .  while I wait in for my medicine to be delivered.