One of my favourite things about the onset of spring is the— wait sorry heard a goldcrest back in a
Expertise is relative. I am, as I write, watching a fencing tournament. I know nothing about fencing. Not strictly true.
We’ve been saying it for weeks. Spring is on the way. Hazel catkins hanging brightly from whippy branches, snowdrops pushing
It’s so tempting to think they do it for us. They don’t, of course, any more than the setting sun
Last week passed on wings of delirium. It started so well. Monday was a day of music and words and