A few years ago a friend said spring was her favourite season. Because it’s new, she said. I wondered if I felt the same but decided for me it’s summer. Light and warm at ten in the evening, sitting and reading in the sun, walking and wild camping a delight. Shorts, sandals, vest. That too I enjoy: it’s relaxing without the fuss of normal clothes.
Spring is however the sweetest season, if I might put it that way, with re-appearing light and sudden colour after months of gloom. British wild flowers are a delight. I make a point of watching them, here for example beside the River Mersey at West Didsbury.
This was my first crocus. Too early, actually, but keen. The cherry blossom is probably my greatest love, if I had to choose, but I enjoy all of it. Tiny forget-me-nots, soft cowslip, exotic fritillary, bluebells. I know where to find them.
Friday February 17, 2017