Lyse Doucet: Under fragile ceasefire, Iranians wonder if US deal can be done

On the plains of northwestern Iran, edged by snow-ribboned ridges, spring nudges almond trees into frothy bloom and a fragile ceasefire brings more traffic onto highways, and more Iranians back to their homeland. "I stayed with my son in Turkey for a month," a grey-haired banker says as we stand waiting in the departures hall at a Turkish crossing...

On the plains of northwestern Iran, edged by snow-ribboned ridges, spring nudges almond trees into frothy bloom and a fragile ceasefire brings more traffic onto highways, and more Iranians back to their homeland.

"I stayed with my son in Turkey for a month," a grey-haired banker says as we stand waiting in the departures hall at a Turkish crossing where a late winter's snow has sent temperatures plunging on that side of the border.

"In my city in the north the Israeli and American airstrikes mainly hit military targets, not homes and civilian infrastructure," was his personal summary of five weeks of grievous war, paused by a two-week truce whose end falls in a week's time.

"I'm a bit scared," an elderly woman in a headscarf confessed, her face wrinkling into worry. She spoke mournfully of the suffering of young Iranians – from the shells which crashed into crowded residential neighbourhoods, to the threats from Iran's Basij paramilitary forces who prowl the streets.