February 2020

The mystery virus that has already killed many thousands of people in China has reached Europe and I write this with a sense of dread as to what is to come.

Only in the garden can I regain a temporary sense of normality - bulbs are pushing through the soil and there are stirrings of spring. With a jolt of surprise I see a solitary white crocus in our ‘wild meadow’. How it arrived there is a mystery but its colour perfectly echos the pure white bark of the silver birch beside it. A long-buried and unintended gift from a past gardener perhaps? I will plant more to join it in the autumn.

Right now though and suddenly more pressing than anything else it seems, is the urge to spring clean. As I discard them, old samples, proof sheets and paperwork are poignant reminders of designs created in previous years and I feel an overwhelming sense of sadness for all that has past.