Toppling a plank, I startled a lizard. It lay immobile at first – still hibernating, its blood was cool. But hail smashed about and it started to twitch as I hurriedly rebuilt his home.

The snowdrops quaked, the catkins trembled and the sky was filthy.

DSC_1107There were pockets of hail in the bracken and bracken and hail in my pockets.

But the brambles were easy to snap and the soil a loose ice-crystal tilth.

Better to garden in blizzards I thought, than be hampered in June by pesky plants.

The lizard I think, disagrees.