The grass is riz. Four weekends ago, I mowed the lawn for the first time this year, and noticed in passing that lapwings had resumed their manic flights above the moors. Three weekends ago, the equinox having passed, European clocks were turned forward, marking the official start of 'summertime'. Two weekends ago, I saw my first swallow of 2005. Last weekend, curlews returned to the field at the side of the house.
Blue tits moved into the nest box is our Scots pine yonks ago. The snowdrops in the garden are long-gone. The daffodils and early blossoms are on their way out. In the last month, I have made four trips to the local tip with garden waste. The year's first ill-faited slugs have emerged from their winter hideaways. Last weekend, after a long afternoon's graft in the garden, Jen and I sat on our sunny patio and drank a few well-earned Guinnesses.
Yes, spring is here all right.
Which goes some way to explaining how we managed to get two inches of sodding snow last night.
