The last of the snow

Yesterday was cold, but bright. I had a letter to post, so I took my camera with me, and carried on past the postbox to the churchyard. It's always a good place for snowdrops, but I thought they'd be over: I've been seeing pictures of crocuses everywhere this week. Apparently not:

As ever, the camera doesn't show you what I saw, the great drifts of white flowers among the fallen headstones, the mistiness of the light sifting through the trees, reflecting back the white of the flowers. But I'm quite pleased with this avalanche of tiny bells.