Moulin. Spring forward.

Winched these old doors open this morning.  The sun's high enough now to filter down into the garden and expose all the winter neglect.  I knocked it (the garden) into a semblance of shape, planted a small mimosa, potentially found a little patch of morels and was made happy by the fact that the wall flower seeds I scattered a little arbitrarily last year have behaved themselves and taken root against a wall.  They must have read the instructions.