WHAT am I going to do? I work in the garden, I have a bad back. I wash the car, I have a bad back. Hopeless... I permanently feel as if I need oiling.

Osteopaths and exercises help and I am a huge fan of Pilates, but at the moment each time I do anything strenuous I am in pain again. Oh dear... Should I work through it, or should I rest?

I don't want you to think I am playing for sympathy... Such a nuisance though...

I always feel strange at this time of year. I get a sort of pre- spring jitters. One minute it is warm and the next cold; it is hard to know what clothing to wear. Similarly at night I am sweaty and then I am shivery. I wake up with the dawn and then toss and turn until it is time to get up, by which time I feel worn out again and need a lie-in.

Between my ever-changing moods and my partner’s much more continuous efforts the garden is looking pretty good though. Each day it has a fresh and greener feel and everything seems to be in rampacious form already.

Yellow primroses and the first delicate narcissi are opening against a backdrop of hellebores and fading snowdrops.

My crocuses are poor again as ever – they just do not seem to do very well with me – but nevertheless provide an occasional strong yellow, purple and white or blue to add a note of interest.

My best crocus this year is one of my favourites, Prins Claus, a stunning little species crocus with blue and white feathered outer petals and pure white on the inside. I had these planted with cream beauty and blue pearl but both of them have virtually disappeared.

My winter flowering honeysuckle, lonicera x purpusii, Winter Beauty, is staging a last hurrah as the new spring foliage appears after struggling against the vicissitudes of our proper winter.

The knock-out scent makes up for any lack of visual appeal and it is therefore essential to plant it where it will not take pride of place but can nevertheless enhance your every passing by.

I would suggest a twin planting with a summer flowering clematis to get full value out of the planting space, though the honeysuckle's pleasant arching shape and fresh lime green summer foliage makes it an acceptable shrub in most gardens.

The lovely winter flowering iris unguicularis is only just flowering in my garden though it can be much earlier if it is planted in front of a south facing wall.

The flowers are completely at the mercy of the weather and will crumple at the first sign of frost or strong winds but what gorgeous flowers they are. Their lack of robustness is echoed in the delicate beauty of the soft lilac petals and white feathering and though the flowers can appear quite close to the ground it is a joy to find them nestling against the foliage.

It fascinates me to follow the subtle and yet daily changes of the approaching season.

As I look out of the window next to my desk the huge oak tree is silhouetted against the now darkening sky – yet it looks different from just a few days ago. I am sure that the sky is a slightly prettier shade of blue.

The tree is virtually black and yet instead of its slightly threatening winter appearance I notice the beauty and complexity of the branches against the sky.

Is it my eyes springing back to life and guzzling back every notion of the oncoming spring ? Or maybe the swelling buds are already affecting the silhouette, softening or enhancing it slightly?

My favourite tree, cornus controversa variegata, was looking magnificent this afternoon as the sun lowered in the sky. The branches looked redder and the buds slightly paler and more upstanding, accentuating the wonderful tiered structure of this ‘wedding cake’ tree.

I did not stay outside for long today. Strong winds sent me cowering indoors having had just long enough to get a few decent pictures.

As you will all have realised by now I am sadly not a terribly robust sort of gardener. I had to laugh a few weeks ago as I read weekend gardening columns about hardy souls who got outside at the first opportunity to brush snow from their favourite shrubs.

“ Blow that for a lark,” was my response and despite the fact that I have lost a couple of favourites, astelia and ceanothus amongst them, I loved to see them covered in snow and would have felt like a rotten spoilsport knocking the snow to the ground. And anyway, it probably would have put my back out...

Write to me at the SNJ. Or email me at theinteractivegardener@f2s.com All photographs: Stephen Harley-Sloman