Usually flowering even before the snowdrop, the aconite is a tiny spring gem. Aconites do not grow from bulbs, but tubers, and form charming little clumps, unassuming and so small that if they were to flower later in the year they would pass unnoticed. This early in the year, however, the golden yellow of their blooms is extremely welcome. Not unlike buttercups, the cup-shaped flowers are about 2.5cm across and have almost no stalk. Below each bloom is a leaf-like bract which looks rather like a choirboy's collar. Aconites are usually happiest growing in leaf litter under trees and shrubs, which is coincidentally the same kind of habitat enjoyed by snowdrops, and they are of course completely hardy.

The Highlands, where I live , is a gloriously lovely region in all weathers. Around Hogmanay, though, days of freezing fog resulted in a hoar-frosted landscape of unbearable beauty. A friend emailed, saying: "I almost crashed the car in awe of the frosted views," and I completely understood. This cold weather is good news for gardeners, as prolonged cold kills many pests that over-winter in the upper surfaces of the soil or in the crevices of stems and bark. Frost also, of course, breaks down heavy clay soils that have been exposed by autumn digging, making cultivation in the year to come a great deal easier.

Even while the earth is frozen and seemingly dead, life is stirring and under the ground bulbs are putting out shoots, living on the stores they put away last summer. I always keep an eye out for those shoots and every year they get earlier. I spotted the first daffodil tips poking up through the frosty ground recently. It was a heartening sight, making that firm, unbreakable promise that spring will come, however unlikely that might have seemed in the midwinter gloom and cold.

But don't forget that a long period of sub-zero temperatures is very bad news for wildlife, especially small birds, so please keep bird-feeders and water dishes stocked up at all times.

It's nearly a year since the death of Christopher Lloyd, who was unarguably one of the major figures of 20th-century British gardening. Known and respected by gardeners throughout the world, he may have lacked the instant recognition factor that television has conferred on people like Alan Titchmarsh, but those who are serious about gardening know that Lloyd was the writer for serious gardeners.

For 50 years, ever since The Mixed Border (1957), he wrote books and columns in his own voice, challenging convention where necessary, as he loathed the lazy and uninteresting.

He never stopped innovating, and his books are always inspiring. I heartily recommend any and all of them to you, but particularly his classic The Well-Tempered Garden (reissued by Phoenix, 2003), Colour For Adventurous Gardeners (BBC Books, 2004) and Christopher Lloyd's Garden Flowers (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 2001).