Daisy and I have walked out daily since my last post.    The year is turning so quickly and spring is here.      Although the snowdrops are strewn across the woodland floor like spent butterflies and similarly the winter aconites, those little sunbursts of yellow that so often grow in tandem with snowdrops, are passing over here now the woods are bursting with new life. 

Today as we wandered through the woods we found celandines, cowslips and what I think were heartsease, small purple pansy like flowers growing at the foot of the hedgerow.   The bluebells are making masses of leaf and it wont be long before the floor of the woodland lies beneath a misty blue haze and that unmistakeable bluebell scent that shifts me straight back to my childhood hangs in the air.     There are also bright yellow daffodils everywhere, planted out across the estate to naturalise beneath the trees which are also all firmly in bud.  

I love this time of year.   It is a period of hopeful growth each plant knowing that a single viscious frost could cut it down.   Even so, the woodland is a mass of energy.   If you sit down amongst it you can feel it.   Everything positively crackles with it.    For me every new small discovery is a wonder and evidence of the tenancious nature of the living year. 

The moon has been gloriously full for two nights now, lighting up our little piece of Wiltshire to such an extent I’ve not needed a torch when walking Daisy at night.    The stars have been exceptionally bright and beautiful with Orion taking centre stage.     I would love to know more about the stars, I should like to know more about so many things, trees, wild flowers, birds, everything!

I have been woken up early over the past couple of mornings by bird song  loud and joyous, the dawn chorus has been practising outside my window.    I would love to know which particular bird it is who sings so loudly.   My husband thinks it may be a blackbird or a thrush.   All I know is that each time it sings, somewhere in the distance another bird answers.   Even as I write this I can hear the sound of some unknown and hidden bird singing outside.    It’s all new to me.   When we lived in Cornwall bird song, if it can be called song, was exclusively the remit of jackdaws and seagulls!

I used to love watching the seagulls climbing on the thermals around the bay, swooping and rising, resting on the air, wings outstretched.   Then they had such a plaintive cry.   I dont think I will find anything here to equal that sound.   I still miss it though well over half a year has passed since we were last there.

I have come to love this part of Wiltshire and although part of me still pines for Cornwall, I have learned such a great deal since I came here and have seen so many things, birds and plants, that I have not seen before I am heartfeltly grateful for the experience.

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