The 1st of January may be the start of the year but, for me, mid-April will always be the beginning of the season.

It's not easy to pinpoint exactly when the garden starts to plump out, but by now it's doing it en masse and demonstrating the start of an unstoppable spring. Everything is in fast-forward!

My bay tree, boldly in leaf but alone throughout winter, now has a band of green companions. My garden in Inverness has clumps of unexpected daffodils - I'd forgotten I'd planted those! The honeysuckle is clambering up to the shed roof; the clematis montana is in leaf, beaded with flower buds, and about to bolt up a neighbour's hazel tree!

Everywhere, it seems, plants are vertically on the move - stepping out of their old grubby tatty winter clothes and into immaculate finery! Lime green, delightfully fresh, and topped with blooming colourful hats!

The forsythia hedge, albeit still twiggy, is noisy with sparrows anxious for nesting materials. The neighbour's ginger cat is sprawled out on top of my studio roof, and I am enjoying an alfresco coffee under a blue, cloud-dappled sky. I'll plant up the pots of wood anemones I found for sale at the botanic gardens, later. Must first savour this moment - how precious it is to have a garden! To notice the determination of spring flowers and bulbs, starting spring with a declaration of colour and scent.

In the bigger world there is so much uncertainty just now. But then I noticed a plaque, tucked in amongst the blades of bluebells, which states: To plant a garden is to believe in tomorrow.

So I took heart. At least gardeners are ever optimists!