Everyone is commenting on blogs about this wonderful shift in the British weather. At last we are having some long awaited sunshine and genuine warmth. I took the above photo exactly a week ago after I noticed this little cherry outside my back door had started to shoot -
and here it is exactly one week later. I am amazed at how much it has grown but the change is noticeable everywhere isn't it? All of a sudden the plants in the garden have taken on that 'fresh' green tint and things are shooting up. My attention has been drawn to all the natural activity taking place as well - great tits have taken up residence in one of the two boxes on our little pig cott, robins are nesting down by the compost heap , blue tits are building a nest in our front garden wall, a pair of goldfinches look like they've returned to nest with us for another year and that pair of long tailed tits are still about , usually tapping on the window every time my husband goes into the garage!
Thanks to everyone for all their feedback about the swallows. I saw my first yesterday on a drive up to North Pembrokeshire . It was in the same place on a wire on the homeward trip as well but nothing here as yet. Before I started this blog I used to keep a notebook of their comings and goings and I looked at it yesterday morning just checking on the dates. For the past three out of four years they have returned on April 22nd. Now, how they can do that I do not know but I am holding my breath for Thursday to come. In truth I don't care about the date but I shall be so disappointed if we do not see them at all this year.
At Tales from a Cottage Garden Jeanne selects a poem every Monday and her choices are always so 'right' for the moment. Today she has chosen 'Home Thoughts from Abroad' by Robert Browning. Please take a look and take in the lines -' And after April, when May follows, And the whitethroat builds, and all the swallows....'
I am always leaving Jeanne comments about how apt her poetry choices are. I wish I had her sense of style. I can only leave you with a poem I found in that notebook I was reading again yesterday. In my notes about the swallows for 2006 I'd written down a copy of 'The Twelve Months' by George Ellis (1753 -1815).Thinking about Browning talking of April followed by May how about this offering from George as a way to record the year:Snowy, Flowy, Blowy
Showery, Flowery, Bowery,
Hoppy, Croppy, Droppy,
Breezy, Sneezy, Freezy
I'm so glad it's not Showery and I'm looking forward to Flowery! Hope the sun is shining on you wherever you are.
7 comments:
Thank you Lesley for kindly linking to me and for your very sweet words. I'm so glad that you enjoy my choice of classic poetry, however I feel unworthy in the wake of 'The Twelve Months' - I think Mr Ellis sums up the seasons perfectly!
Your cherry is blooming very prettily and what a view you have from your back door! I do like my walled garden but sometimes I yearn for a view ...
Jeanne
x
I carefully wrote a comment and then got a message saying not available and the lot disappeared - don't you just love modern technology? Anyway what I said was that I too had noticed the speed with which things seem to have greened up and blossomed this past week - I almost want it to slow down as this is my favourite time of year and I want to savour it!
Your poem may lack some of the literary merit of Jeanne's but it is a lesson in brevity and keeping to the point and as such really clever!
Jane x
My favourite time of year too. Am reading this between sessions in the garden, weeding and sowing seeds........ We are watching bluetits who are nesting in boxes only just put up last autumn and we are getting SUCH pleasure from them.
I wish I had kept notebooks............
Hi Lesley
I think it's wonderful that you notice things, so many people don't make the the time to nowadays, and nicely complemented by Jeanne's Monday Poem - always a bright start to the week!!
I'm glad you've found your swallows, no sign of anything here yet, our regular house martins are not here yet.
Best wishes
Dan
Everything is bursting here too - the plum is out and the pear will be too in a couple of days if the sun stays out. The apple trees look full of bud. Last year's crop was disappointing after a bumper '08. I love sitting with a cup of tea listening to the great tits and the robin can be heard almost continually. In fact the whole season is a poem in itself, it is no wonder it has inspired so many verses.
My comment seems to have disappeared, but at the risk of repeating myself, I will say again how beautiful the blossom is, our plum is out and the pear just about to burst - the whole season is a poem in itself.
Isn't it wonderful, garden full of blossom, busy birds and sunshine. As Jill says, a poem in itself. As a change from hen-watching, I've now got the delight of seeing the bluetits whizzing in and out of a hole under the garage roof with beaks full of nesting material. And of course the robins bullying me for worms when I'm digging in the garden. Aint life grand!
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