A sarcophagus in the greenhouse

Crook, County Durham Unnoticed the larva continued its magical metamorphosis into a butterfly, as enigmatic as a mummy

After the passing of the winter solstice the urge to sow seeds in the greenhouse is like an itch that just has to be scratched, even though the lengthening of the days is still barely perceptible.

A chill wind rattles the panes of glass but in here, with winter sun filtering through the roof, it's snug. A field mouse seems have come to the same conclusion; on the bench it has left a heap of snake's head fritillary bulbs, dug from a flowerpot and gnawed.