Beauty in the eye of the beholder

While we were away, the wind blew and blew, it rained and rained again, the garden became more and more bedraggled and the only thing that grew in the polytunnel were the weeds. Meteorologically, spring may have officially sprung on 1 March, or alternatively, astronomically on 20 March, but we are still enduring the equinox… Continue reading Beauty in the eye of the beholder

April Morning

The world was very quiet and still; during the night the north wind had rested and its breath had spread across the grass leaving each fragile stem festooned with diadems. A series of whistles announced the arrival of the first visitors - attired with copes of gold, velvet black waistcoats and carnival masks they alighted… Continue reading April Morning

Hark, hark the Lark

The skylarks have returned and at every glimmer of sunshine ascend in a paroxysm of delight. There are noisy gatherings of Oystercatchers speed dating in the field, and the lapwings are practising sky dancing aerobatics to advertise their prowess as a sign of their parental fitness. To earthbound mortals the song of the lark is… Continue reading Hark, hark the Lark

Earth Day – late celebrations

We were sitting enjoying the late evening sunshine and a glass of wine, watching the skydancers and musing as to whether we'd have a spectacular sunset when the Ardivachar gods gave me a nudge in the ribs. A beautiful male Hen Harrier, resplendent in pearl grey and black livery, had the temerity to fly through… Continue reading Earth Day – late celebrations

Sky Dancing

It is still too cold to do any gardening that does not involve some fairly vigorous exercise - digging up creeping buttercup (pernicious weed and bane of my life) fits the bill. Stretching to ease my aching back it is easy to spend a few minutes watching the ravens tumble and roll their hoarse cronk… Continue reading Sky Dancing