Spring walk
Today was just one of those perfect days. I had a list of jobs a mile long but looking after the dog meant that I had first to go for a walk. The land is greening from day to day practically as I watch. Although the oaks are still bare there is green on the willows and a quiver of buds on the hawthorn. Dog and I set off down to the river. She knows she needs a stick but maybe misjudged it with this one. With every day there are more wood anenomes by the track down to the river. How do they grow clinging to the edge of the track, in the scant earth between tree roots? The dog bounds ahead, stopping every now and then to look back and wait for me, as if tethered by an invisible lead. The trees above my head are full of birdsong, the long liquid call of a blackbird seems to follow me down the track, moving from tree to tree as I go. Half way down a buzzard glides above the open field to my right, low enough for me to see the pattern on th...