Snowdrop

Puzzle of the day: what is the image on the left of this blog's masthead supposed to be? Most people I suppose would say, "easy, it's an asterisk of course!" OK, but that's a puzzle in itself: where did the asterisk come from? And no, don't tell me Gaul!

I look at this little symbol in rather more picturesque terms though: I think it's a snowflake or if you prefer, a snowdrop.

Snowdrops from the sky have been a regular sight in many parts of the UK this cold, dark season. We were warned back in the autumn that a long, hard winter lay ahead and the meteoro-prophets seem to have been proved right. It seems like a longer watch than usual for Spring, so I hope Bill Oddie's got plenty of nice hot Thermos flasks with him.

Our perception of time and its passage is an odd thing though, as a BBC TV series is currently examining. Astronomically speaking, Winter is no longer or shorter this year than it has ever been. It still lasts three months. But a succession of mornings scraping the ice from the car or regular TV news footage of kids enjoying themselves in the snow can make the coldest season seem to go on forever.

Perhaps that's why God created the other type of snowdrop, the mini blooming delight which has usually exploded from the ground in the second month of the year. It's a visual delight to the jaded winter eyes of any soul observant enough to spot it's tiny floral form.

Daffodils have a similar effect on me. They are the flower of Wales and of March, and every time I see one my heart fills with joy. Indeed, so fond am I of these yellow-trumpeted splendours that I have one on permanent display in my Eastbourne kitchen in the form of a poster. It bears the wording "But as for me and my household, we will serve the Lord" (Joshua Chapter 24, Verse 15). Amen to that!

Lent is a time of patient waiting. It will always have forty days (OK, it's actually a few more because Sundays don't count but let's not be pedantic!). It can seem long and hard at times, particularly if a favourite activity or food has been forsaken for the duration.

But God has promised he will never leave us or forsake us- even in the darkest days, as I endured in Lent last year during my Mum's final illness. The hope of Springtime is embedded in the DNA of every flower piercing the barrenness of our garden deserts,as the elusive sun heads northwards on its course towards the equator. But the promise of Easter is in every buried bulb bursting from the soil, as new life is offered by the rising son year after year.