Country diary: Catkins emerge in the deep, late winter cold | John Gilbey

Clarach, Ceredigion: Resting against a stone wall, I let the sounds of the woodland ease around me - bickering blue tits, the harsh call of a rook Despite the pale sunshine, the strong wind from the north brings with it a deep cold. Cramming my hat further down over my ears, I hurry across the exposed hilltop and seek the shelter of the woods above the Clarach Valley. Once within the trees, still bare and dormant apart from a scattering of catkins, the breeze eases - but newly fallen branches show the power of the winter gales that have scythed across this ridge.From the muted hues of the winter woodland, a few small hints of spring - snowdrops and primroses - are starting to emerge. Beside the path there is more activity: a fresh molehill, the earth still dark and moist. The firm crumb structure of this soil, rich from hundreds of years of leaf fall and the action of earthworms, would gain approval from those local gardeners whose own plots are heavy with clay and shale. Continue reading...