Cormac MacConnell: Sweet spring flowers remind me of Ruby

I went out into the cottage garden an hour ago. Everything was grey at this time of year, but something caught my eye, says Cormac MacConnell.

The base of the trunk of the old gnarled apple tree was girdled and cuddled about by snowdrops. Pure white, tightly clustered together for comfort, their small heads as innocent as an infant’s dream.

As I watched, a spare thin shaft of February sunshine touched them. Beautiful. And I thought of Ruby Waterson.