Yes, we were lulled into thinking that spring was just about here. Sunny, still, albeit frosty weather seemed to promise that winter was gone at last and maybe, just maybe, those daffodils in our courtyard would commit and flower.
But it was not to be, at least not yet. At the end of March (and, thank goodness, during a few days when we had no visitors) we had truly ferocious storms. The weather forecasts seemed to do nothing but dwell on the fact that snow was once again likely in some parts of the country ("winter returns", etc) and seemed to make little of the possibility of storm force winds.
Once more the photographers gathered and the tripods came out as some truly apocalyptic waves smashed themselves against the harbour wall. What a show! But some were less impressed. "That storm was nothing," we heard a few of the locals say. "We've seen waves coming over the lamp posts!"
The storms died away abruptly and left behind some damaged sections of sea wall in the old West Shore and a great deal of debris. And among the sand and seaweed and jetsam washed far up on the bank above the sea wall, a few clumps of daffodils could just about be seen, a bit battered but doing their darnedest to flower.
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