Sunday 25th April 2010

We’ve had some welcome rain this morning and the air is heavy with the smell of spring. Everything is erupting into green and as the rain hits the warm soil, the scent of the earth is everywhere, in heavy robust aromas of humus and pine.
I have made good progress on the pond but it will take longer than I initially thought...but that’s always the way with these things. I took Robbie out for a walk and saw what appeared to be a Robin/Blue Tit cross. Perhaps it was just an odd colour, but it was certainly strange?

Soft sun warms birdsong like the heat of the oven rises bread. Both elemental and necessary. The birds swell the morning in joy, even though I do not know why they expel such exuberance to usher in the dawn. Like a breathing organ, in a tall cathedral, the crescendo reaches fever pitch as the lengthening fingers of sunshine poke deeper through the trees. Then all stills and work begins. Night has paled to dawn and dawn always brightens to a day. Day’s lengthen and fade away to dusk in an arc of east-west heat. Then night comes and quiets the never ending motion, that is this world and what a canvas to paint the avian symphony on. It is spring, the birds sing...no matter the world, because hope takes wing, while the music of the trees is here, to take us into summer.