Spring.
'The Spring has sprung, the grass is rizz, I wonder where the boidie is' - words often wrongly attributed to Ogden Nash; instead penned by the more prolific writer, Anonymous.
How do you judge when Spring has sprung?
For me, it is stepping outside and the surprise, after a winter of damp, earthy smells, of breathing in warm, green air.
And the jostling, yellow gatherings, bursting above the grass. Or as Wordsworth rather more eloquently put it "All at once I saw a crowd, A host of yellow daffodils, ... fluttering and dancing in the breeze"
I neither flutter nor dance in breezes. Nor do Four-legged-friend and Bertie Baggins. They do however like a spot of lazing in the Spring sun. Particularly when that lazing involves watching me; gardening.
Garden watching is all very well and companionably pleasing even if motivated by we-know-there-are-dog-biscuits-in-one-of-those-gardening-jacket-pockets-so-we'll-sit-here-keeping-you-company-for-as-long-as-it-takes.…
'The Spring has sprung, the grass is rizz, I wonder where the boidie is' - words often wrongly attributed to Ogden Nash; instead penned by the more prolific writer, Anonymous.
How do you judge when Spring has sprung?
For me, it is stepping outside and the surprise, after a winter of damp, earthy smells, of breathing in warm, green air.
And the jostling, yellow gatherings, bursting above the grass. Or as Wordsworth rather more eloquently put it "All at once I saw a crowd, A host of yellow daffodils, ... fluttering and dancing in the breeze"
I neither flutter nor dance in breezes. Nor do Four-legged-friend and Bertie Baggins. They do however like a spot of lazing in the Spring sun. Particularly when that lazing involves watching me; gardening.
Garden watching is all very well and companionably pleasing even if motivated by we-know-there-are-dog-biscuits-in-one-of-those-gardening-jacket-pockets-so-we'll-sit-here-keeping-you-company-for-as-long-as-it-takes.…