Every time I turn on the news, there seems to be more and more awful things to consider. I feel dreadful for the people in war zones and those being discriminated against. I’m sick of hearing about fuel prices and how our heating bills are going to soar. I’m disgusted that the government haven’t given any provision to those on benefits who are already struggling to survive. All these things make me feel helpless. Compared to many, I’m incredibly fortunate to have the life I have and the freedom to enjoy living in the beautiful countryside without fear, so instead of switching on the television, I’ve turned to watching Spring arrive – the perfect antidote.
The warm weather we had for a couple of weeks made it feel as if everything was waking up from a winter slumber. The wonderful thing about Spring is its glorious monotony. Whatever is happening in the world, it can be counted on to come, without fail, bringing life, happiness and hope.
For many years I used to admire the stonewalls around where I live, because at this time of year, they are decorated with purple patches of Aubretia As time wore on I began to covet their gorgeous flowers and want to transform the stone wall outside my house. So, three years ago I decided to buy some seedlings in the hope that I could grow my own. After careful planting, a couple survived; some succumbed to frost, others just gave up so, I kept buying more and more each year – determined to have my dream wall – and finally I have been rewarded. Every time I go out the gate and see my wall, dripping with the bunches of little flowers ranging from indigo, violet and one an intense shade of magenta, I can’t stop smiling. And I’m not the only one who loves it, it’s a favourite with butterflies too. I went outside earlier and found a man out on a walk admiring it. He said, ‘your wall looks lovely. I’ve got the purple ones but I want that colour now’ and he pointed to the magenta one. Finally people are admiring my wall after my hard work.
Our next-door neighbour has a magnificent Magnolia tree. It is huge and a herald of Spring when it’s smothered in pale pink blossom, beautiful against the bright blue of the sky. They also have a bank at the front of their garden. At present, it is barely visible due to the hundreds of small Celandine flowers crowning the grass – turning it gold. At night, and when they’re in shadow, they close up tightly waiting for the heat of the sun to warm their faces.
In our garden, daffodils and tulips are pushing through making a riot of yellow, red, pink and orange. Dusty, drunken bees with their pockets full of pollen busily hum as they visit them. The roses are getting their new soft leaves and climbing the arch we put in last year. I can’t wait to see it covered in sweet-smelling blooms.
Our Camelia has exploded and looks the best I’ve ever seen it. It’s becoming more tree than bush. The birds love to sit and sway on its branches amidst the perfect pink rosettes.
We have always enjoyed bird watching; however, in the last few years we have become serious twitchers!. Now we have two bird tables, we’re forever buying specialist types of seed to attract more exotic birds than our standard pigeons, starlings and sparrows. I know that sparrows are meant to be in decline, but not in our garden. They come in crowds and bully the other birds off the food. We have a pair of blackbirds who have learnt to stand their ground. The male wakes us up every morning singing his heart out from the top of the shed roof outside our window. With his intricate repertoire of whistles and warbles he is the best alarm clock ever! We also have a pair of robins who are pretty feisty. They aren’t scared of the sparrows or us and hang around a lot. This year we have a few new additions: a chaffinch has been calling, long-tailed tits, beautiful goldfinches that come in a small flock for our special seed. They light up the garden for a few minutes with their scarlet heads and gold wings flashing in the sunlight while they perch and feed.
The best news this year is that we have bluetits nesting in our box. They have obviously worked out that they are welcome as they have a ready-made house and food supply. I haven’t managed to get a picture of them yet, but we’re very excited to see their babies when they hatch.
We’ve begun walking before work, something we did all the time before lockdown. I love it because it is silent, and we are alone, with Otis off the lead sniffing for rabbits. Dawn is breaking as we set off. I feel joyful, watching the sunrise – feeling those first pale rays touch my face while the sky turns from dark to light – the orange light foreshadowing the sun’s arrival.
As it slowly ascends above the hills, the sheep in the fields turn rosy and the little lambs start bleating and feeding on their mother’s milk, their little tails wagging with pleasure.
The banks are dotted with yellow primroses. Sprays of blackthorn light up the hedgerows and robins whistle and watch us pass by.
The fields surrounding us are full of rapeseed that glows golden in the sunshine like it’s wrapping the village in a warm embrace. I enjoy its heady scent as it fills the air.
During our walks we often hear the loud rhythmic pecking of woodpeckers, although rarely see one as they are so shy. Most excitingly the other morning, as we had just set out, we saw one who obviously had love on his mind as he was drilling furiously into a tree trying to attract a mate. After watching for a few minutes, we saw a glimpse of red as he flew away. Towards the end we could hear another one as we approached a line of old oak trees. It was so loud in comparison to the stillness and quiet of the morning. We looked up and were rewarded by another sighting. At home we worked out that they were both Great Spotted Woodpeckers
The sunsets of late have been pretty spectacular too. The wonderful thing about this time of year is the sense of anticipation – knowing that we have the whole summer ahead – with hopefully lots of lovely weather so we can go wild swimming and explore new places we’ve never been before.
As I’m writing this it’s another sunny day with clear skies, the birds are trilling away and I’ve just been to visit my friend Joy, as it’s her birthday. She’s 92! I love to hear her stories. She was a evacuated to Devon from London as a teenager in World War Two so has some understanding through personal experience of what people are going through now.
She has a wonderful garden and gives me lots of wise horticultural guidance. It is a suntrap so I enjoy sitting amongst her pots full of bright colourful flowers, surrounded by great swathes of daffodils mixed with Grape Hyacinths, while looking at the incredible view. On a clear day you can see Dartmoor ahead in the distance and to the left, a sparkling silver line – the sea at Sidmouth. She also has a bird table that is visited by a whole family of woodpeckers which is something we are hoping we get to see in our garden in the future. On her sage advice I’m off to buy some mealworms…
Love, Life and Lemons 