Finally, the laburnum in the Churchyard has started to bud a hardly detectable green.
I have been worried about it not doing so.
It’s the most magnificent tree in the village.
The sun is shining but it remains cooler than you might expect and when you look at the gorse on the Gop the blooms that looked so golden only week ago , now look more muted in their radiance.
The bachelor cockerel is crowing incessantly this morning but the breeze alters the volume of his calls from faint to bearable.
There is the noise of a tractor coming from one of the fields in the valley towards Gentleman Ralph’s farm
It’s as irritating as a lawnmower on this Sunday morning, the breeze can’t change that.
The bluebells are out, in my garden and in the corner of the churchyard where I planted them two years ago.
They are luminous.
As if powered by tiny batteries
The girls have been walking in the woods, they haven’t visited in an age.
They scampered like mice