Mike Wolfenden, 90, a retired telecommunications engineer, looks forward to warmer months - and the end of the Brexit process

SPRING is here. I know what William Wordsworth said about the daffodils and what other poets have had to say about gambolling lambs but my viewpoint is rather different.

First of all I rejoice that we have left winter behind. Winter is a season which might have been kind to us - or alternatively it might have been violent, cold and generally tiresome.

The garden now is visibly coming back to life with the chill of winter receding almost daily and flowers appear that have kept their heads down since the previous year.

The hedgerows are becoming a blaze of colour to replace the almost monochromatic green that has been our lot since before winter.

Buds are appearing and leaves gradually opening to clothe the bare branches that we have seen through the darker months, giving promise of the pleasure to come as spring unfolds.

From a purely personal viewpoint, which is probably not shared by many of my compatriots, I can now start to shed the layers of clothing that have kept me so snug since the year before.

Off with the thermals, flannel shirts, sweaters and fleecy jackets so that I can start looking like a human being again.

Other people don’t seem to have my need for winter layers and can be seen in the depth of the chilly season in no more than sweatshirts and jeans.

But not me – if I am warm I am a happy bunny and manage to avoid the chills and colds that are so common.

Another month and the glorious colours of the countryside will be back, the trees in full green leaf and flowers everywhere which tells me that spring really has sprung.

I am reborn, looking forward to the warmth of the sun on my face, sitting out in the garden that means so much to both Ann and I, looking across the fields towards the Scout and Whitbarrow Scars, which shelter us from the worst of the wintry blasts and telling ourselves that we wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

Ann really likes having flowers in the house, as well as in the garden and our conservatory brings on blooms that would normally need a greenhouse.

Some have well-travelled origins while others are very local but it is a joy to watch the new flowers appearing.

I have never claimed to be a clever gardener as my role has been that of a willing labourer but now advancing age (I was 90 recently) has changed all that and I have lost so much bodily strength that I can no longer cope with the heavier tasks.

But that doesn’t mean that I have given up and just take a passive viewpoint – I do what I can and avoid anything that might be risky.

Spring this year has seen events taking place that we would much rather not have seen.

We move so jerkily towards the point of departure from the European Union that we could be forgiven for believing that the event lies somewhere in the well-used phrase ‘this year, next year, some time, never!’

There has been remorseless coverage of events that beggar belief and there remains absolutely no certainty about the eventual outcome – being British we are well able to just hope for the best!

Scanning through the Internet the other day I came across an interesting comment that the two elder statesmen of the house (Kenneth Clark and Frank Field) are putting their heads together to devise a plan to move forward that might just work where attempts by others have gone nowhere.

We can only wish them luck in their endeavours!