A Spring in my Step

Recalling my recent tripping accident on the heath, the hilarity of my chosen title is not lost on me. But as Winter gives way to Spring, the changes in my biorhythms are noticeable. Even though our bedroom window is fitted with a blackout blind (insomniac husband), I am still waking earlier - no matter what time I go to bed - with "a head full of ideas" to quote Dylan.

Not sure if it's the change in light somehow infiltrating the bedroom early in the morning, or the positivity and optimism that Spring ushers in. I've started making "To do" lists again (I have an exciting new local photographic location to add to it, courtesy of a charitable togger acquaintance of mine). I even found myself studiously taking notes whilst listening to Monty Don on Friday night. I think that means I am really, really old. 

Talking of Monty Don, I picked up a paperback copy of his book "My Garden World" in Sainsbury's last week. It's been on my Must Buy list for some time, but I held off because my reading pile will soon need it's own room. The £4.50 price tag finally seduced me and I need not have worried. It's a book to savour and dip in and out of; a month by month record of Monty's observations of changes in nature. It's interwoven with personal memories, with nuggets of knowledge revealed in every paragraph. Just beautiful. 

So I thought I would write a short blog post on my own recent observations and the effect they have on my mood and general wellbeing.

Daisies are just infinitely uplifting.  They carry the power of nostalgia - we all have memories of making daisy chains.  Their brightness and simplicity is just sheer nature perfection.

 

Similarly, Daffodils.  Their petals mirror sunbeams in the sky and remind me that as sure as night follows day, summer will come.  As a child, they just made me think of Easter and chocolate. OK, I admit it, they still do and for the record, no Easter egg will ever live up to the egg my husband made for me once by melting the biggest bar of Galaxy chocolate he could find, stirring in Maltesers and entombing the heavenly liquid elixir in a large Easter Egg mould, resulting in 2lb of solid chocolate that you had to dash against a concrete wall to stand a chance of eating.  

Shakespeare introduced the phrase "primrose path" as spoken by Ophelia to Hamlet, apparently signifying the path of luxury.  Maybe some luxury will be bestowed upon me as I spotted these opening primroses yesterday.  

Buds.  New life.  New start.  In many ways I think of Spring as the true start of the year.  I find that training myself to look for small signs of change is a great way to focus the mind and stop it straying too far.  It's meditative.  While I'm trying to find the sweet spot focal point through my lens, I can't be worrying about when I will get my Covid jab, how I can solve my lack of interior storage, or our son's future job prospects.

The Scarlet Elf Cup fungus.  They're reasonably widespread, but not commonly found because they tend to grow on fallen trees and logs in shady areas and are usually buried under moss.  Technically not a sign of Spring, as they can make an appearance from December, but I was really excited to find one.

Flying Geese, particularly at this time of the year, evoke feelings of wanderlust.  At least they are going somewhere.  At the time of writing, holidays abroad are said to be unlikely this year (no surprises there) and it's looking as though many places in the UK have already been booked.  Unless I get my act together, we may be faced with a stark choice:  summer in the Black Country or staying under canvas.   

Greenery.  Not just any old green.  I'm talking about that special shade of deep verdant green you see in certain places.  Traditionally, we would head to the wilds of Exmoor for Easter and the colours of the fields always just seemed to pop.  It's probably a sign of fertile soil.  Anyway, yesterday, I saw it, reflected in a pond on the Enville Estate and turning it into an Emerald.  

Lastly, the shifts in light.  The sun is gradually getting higher in the sky, casting shorter shadows and allowing new chinks of light into the garden.

So whilst yesterday marked Spring Equinox, tonight is all about Line of Duty.  H, we're coming for you! 

Happy Sunday!