Living and working where we do, I am not given to complaining about the weather, but the incessant deluges vested upon the hills from October until March have tested the most stoic, and has proved debilitating for humans and animals alike. Only now is there sufficient grass and warmth to turnout the weaned calves – one month later than usual.
The flowers, though, kept faith and did their best to brighten lives. Primroses and daffodils emerged before Christmas, while the snowdrops refused to appear before time – how/why?
Now with the advent of violets the countryside is bursting with colour, most noticeably the late primroses in swathes as never before. And most beautiful of all are the hillsides of mixed woodlands. Their buds and young leaves showing every subtle shade imaginable, of green, brown, beige, grey and white blending under the cloudy sun as only nature can – “the loveliest of trees, the cherry now – is hung with bloom along its bough – and stands about the woodland ride – wearing white for Eastertide”.
Lizzie and I have continued our yo-yo routine to London, coping with yet another full-on Christmas, before catching breath into the New Year’s winter that never came. We finally bade farewell to Margriet and welcomed first Claire, and then Sarah, two more lovely people who we appreciate enormously helping us to promote and enhance what we do.
London is more than ever a congested and pressurised building site, and there is a feeling of “marking time” until this divisive referendum is behind us.