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Nothing is so beautiful as Spring . . .

7 years ago

said poet Gerard Manley Hopkins

Nothing is so beautiful as Spring –

When weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush;

Thrush’s eggs look little low heavens, and thrush

Through the echoing timber does so rinse and wring

The ear, it strikes like lightnings to hear him sing;

The glassy peartree leaves and blooms, they brush

The descending blue; that blue is all in a rush With richness; the racing lambs too have fair their fling.

Has Spring finally hit your neck of the woods after what seems for you on the East Coast to have been a long, cold and dreary winter or are you doing rain-dances in California . . . or battening down the hatches and preparing for cold in Australia?

Here after a dampish and dull few months the blossom is out, a mass of primroses, dandelions and even a few stray violets are covering the lawns ( a good reason to spare the grass-mowing) and now the bluebells are joining them . . .mostly Spanish which are fast overtaking the traditional English variety.
Also have our 'own' thrush in the garden and are awaiting the call of the cuckoo.
With warmish days and cold nights this, for me, is the best season of the year.
Oh! and Happy St George's Day.

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