This year spring seems to be arriving early in Devon . I feel a particular affinity with this season as I was born in Springtime . Being a typical male , not wanting any fuss and certainly no lavish gifts I won't divulge that my birthday is March 8th .Incidentally it is also International Women's Day something I have always found a bit disconcerting -I don't know why - but I digress . On The Bury , our village green ,the yellow and blue fingers of crocus have been pointing skywards for several weeks and now they are opening, exposing their glorious saffron centres. The hazels are dripping with fluffy pale golden catkins and it is as if someone has carelessly sprinkled handfulls of pure , white confetti in the hedgerows as the first snow drops nod and tremble in the cold wind .There are even a few brave daffodils trumpeting what is yet to come . I never cease to marvel at the new beginning of life after the dark months of winter begin to pass . Tiny green shoots pushing their way through frost baked ground ,birds breaking into song as if anticipating warmer days yet to arrive . I find it comforting when I consider my own mortality and I know that my children and my grandchildren and their children will experience the same renewal of life that I have witnessed and enjoyed all my life . Nature's cycle will continue and life will be reborn. It's just as it should be.