Birthday celebrations in Spring. Life is yellow. And the birthday boy is 245 years old. "My heart with pleasure fills, And dances with the daffodils." ... what me! Dancing? With flowers! I don't think so ... Like the 'ducks dabbling up-tials all', 'wandering lonely as a cloud' is a treasured verse from childhood. I wish I remembered more. Happy Birthday William Wordsworth. Apart from the flowers my favourite part of Spring is the light - crisp, clear, vastly distant. Casting low, long shadows and blinding you in the car at the beginning and end of the day (that bit I don't love, very definitely don't love.) Spring is also the one time of year when gardeners have the opportunity to beat back the rising tide of emerging seeds, the first winding thready tendrils of bindweed, the low furry haze of nettle carpet and the first yellow heads of buttercup that scream catch-me-if-you-can. Lose the battle now and the weeds win...
Stories and musings on life composed while walking the dog. Plus the odd rant.