SPRING FIRST ARRIVED in the glen of ice and fire with early sunlight and cold days, followed by fierce winds, blown snow.
For days I had happily painted a fiery sun arising under a pale blue sky, in streaks of yellow-flame over that same old snow, or frozen ground.
Then one morning I left to run early in a wind gone mad. That North wind howled, it screamed and shook. It shouted it would shake and destroy everything in its path as I left the lee of the house. I almost left the ground and flew across the grass in a wind without any mercy, constraint, or care for anything but it’s own anger.
With a huge effort, I stopped at the wall near the road. And right there, in the face of this almighty bedlam, leaning against the gate-in-the-wall, was a ewe with two young lambs; so new they were barely able to stand, let alone face this onslaught of wild weather.
Yesterday I noticed one ewe had escaped the open field. Today there were two new lambs as well in her hiding place. They looked so cute, their new floppy ears blowing around in the wind, not knowing which way to face, nor whether to stand, or lay down, on legs which looked as if they could not support their weight; in a wind that also left me breathless too and amazed. And yes this was April arrived.
Yet within days, the season's change was already noticeable, the many myriad shoots of Spring appearing everywhere, despite the hard night frosts and that same relentless cold wind.
Above the glens, a cherry and orange disk in a lilac sky,
shines in empty branches, drawing fine blue twigs out over winter faded fields,
touched now with new green.
Below the trees,
softly sheltering amongst weather hardened roots,
matt white snowdrops nod gently in a North wind
all bunched in bright vivid colour.
Yes, I really like being out here.
A part of me wants modern things,
but a bigger part needs a landscape,
a forest, a mountain, the sea,
to walk, to sit, to experience
and to see my dreams appearing.
Along narrow lanes where pheasants clack,
jolly daffodils now appear, towering on long emerald stalks,
their yellow faces rise again majestic,
in the still cool chilly air.