SNOWDROPS

There's a stream near the River Rother where snowdrops grow wild in great white drifts on the banks.
For years I've gone there to see them. They come at a time of year when I can find a bit of stillness after the turmoil of Christmas. I associate them with bare, empty months when I can work again and a stillness that's becoming harder and harder to capture in our age of  manic social networking.
There's a poem about them on: http://www.paulcoltman.blogspot.com/