It is glorious here. The sky a perfect washed out blue with nary a cloud in to mar its perfection.
It’s still cold and there is frost on the ground but I am smiling because the sun is shining so strongly and I really feel that Spring is making a bid for it.
The fat chaffinch is pecking at the window furious that there is another male in his territory, he’ll do this all season and I swear one day he’ll actually break the window.
The Starlings are beginning to return and make rude noises down the chimney sweeping and swooping whistles that annoy the dogs no end. They have an unholy sense of humour.
The violets are peeking through the grass and dead leaves in the wood, drifts of mauve, purple and white. A bewildered bumble bee flies past hazily making its way out in the sunshine, I fear it’s journey will be cut short for it seems so sleepy and the rest of the wildlife certainly isn’t!
The ducks make raucus laughter in the moat and Mrs Duck waddles officiously up the bank quacking at me for food clearly in a pother with her three suitors this year. It will all settle down in time and the garden will cry out for attention demanding thing that it is and I will not notice quite as much as I have done this afternoon.
But for now everything seems to be on the cusp…