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After decades of natural light macro photography, I struggle on my first in-the-field venture with flash and diffuser. A lot of failures, but enough successes to persevere.

Stepping out of one comfort zone is hard, but stepping out of two both on the same morning is really challenging. But it somehow worked in capturing the less romantic side of my nearby village. And I can’t wait to have another go.

With the mountains still firmly in the grip of winter, every year I eagerly await the blossoming of the almond trees on the stony plateau near my home. A fragrant demonstration of resilience and vitality bringing with it a breath of Spring.

Today is the first of March. I’m not sorry to leave February behind for another year, but even in the midst of winter, nature manages to surprise and amaze, with the first flowers and a smattering of courageous arthropods to delight my spirit and my eyes.

Despite last night’s snow and an icy wind, Spring is in the air. A blackbird sings and the first almond blossom is backlit by the sun.

Come with me on a simple walk in the oak woods near my home on an undistinguished February day while I and the woodland wait for Spring to bring new sap and new energy.

When the sun’s rays break through the fog, then magic can happen and a simple patch of lichen can become a fairyland of light and enchanted shapes.

A day in the life of whoever I am, to share, but also to remember, looking back from wherever I’ll be, whatever I’ll be doing a few years from now.

I still have a long wait until Spring, but here in the foothills of the central Italian Apennines, the very first flowers are appearing and the new season is slowly getting underway.

When temperatures plummet and the snow piles up, then I’m thankful for whatever I can glimpse (and photograph) through my window. And what’s not to like about a pigeon a day!