"NOT THIS TIME OF YEAR AT ALL"

WAS it Gogarty who first popularised the expression "Sure it isn't this time of year at all"? It seldom is

WAS it Gogarty who first popularised the expression "Sure it isn't this time of year at all"? It seldom is. A woman plants daffodils and narcissi on her lawn in great numbers. They are guaranteed to flower in series. What happens? They all come out at one and the same time. Lilac is expected about the beginning of May. It may be in full flower by the time this appears in print. Down in Kerry, a couple of weeks ago, it was noted that the blackthorn was at the same stage as it was in Meath - just about to flower. Next day, it was blooming. On the same day, a call from Meath boasts that a man's bushes are covered in the white blossom. The oaks will be long in coming. Ralph Whitlock makes us goggle when he states in his book that a big tree "may be required to raise 100 gallons of nutrient laden water to the tips of its twigs every day" when things really begin. As it is, the small oak seedlings in the pots show signs of moving - and one is spectacularly out: its lovely, delicate, coppery leaves surprise you. These are specials. They are Dostoyevsky's oaks, one of six.

In 1295 Frank King of Virginia was in St Petersburg Leningrad, when he decided to visit the grave of the author of Crime and Punishment. Near the grave, he found an oak and brought home some acorns. They came up well in 1996, and now in 1997 they are likely to thrive. Not a move on any of the Irish seedlings, but it may not be long. Foreign countries lure out holiday makers by promises of constant sun and bliss. We have something interesting, if not alluring to give absolute unpredictability.

Drive around south Dublin, and it's magnolias every where. In one enclosed garden, you are asked to admire the opening blossoms on the small apple trees which yield good, substantial fruit later on, in due season. And, someone reproached, you never mention my own favourite wild flower - the dandelion. Indeed, they're worthy of note.

So, on with the spring. Summer will be with us (in spots) before we know it. And we could still have snow, as we did in May 1943, on the ninth of the month. Come to Ireland for surprises.