“… a clearing dominated by an ancient oak. Wood anemones had pushed up through the dead leaves covering the ground around its trunk…” (March 15, 1814)

This is a childhood memory; it was like a miracle every spring. One day the woods were filled with dry, brown leaves rustling under my feet, the next the ground was covered in thousands of white stars surrounded by soft green. The bunch I picked was so big, Mum had to use a soup tureen for a vase.

©Jürgen May