Winter always turns to spring

"Those who believe in the Lotus Sutra are as if in winter, but winter always turns to spring. Never, from ancient times on, has anyone ever heard or seen of winter turning back to autumn"
Writings of Nichiren Daishonin, Vol. 1 p.536

I was put in mind of this quote from Nichiren Daishonin, the thirteenth century Japanese priest whose Buddhism I practise, when I saw these daffodils struggling through the soggy grass as I walked to the tube this morning.

But these days there seems to be little differentiation between the seasons, apart from the idea that one month belongs more to one season than another; it must be summer if it's August, winter if it's December and so on. Seasons seemed to be much more defined by the weather when I was a child. Winter would be time for hats, scarves and mittens, time to play in the snow, to wake up and draw patterns in the ice on the inside of the bedroom window. Spring was when the snow had melted and plants and trees started to wake up and blossom. Summer was for swimming, playing on the beach, climbing trees. Autumn was a time of conker fights and kicking through the falling leaves. All this nostalgia. Must be a sign I'm getting old...

More and more of the country is being engulfed by water. If it wasn't for the Thames Barrier, vast swathes of the City and central London would be submerged. I console myself by remembering that the park, where I took this photo has a sundial whose plate is at the height of the top of the dome of St Paul's. Should be fairly immune to flooding here then!