You could practically taste spring on the air this evening as I walked home, that heady combination of pungent sweet pollen with fragrant undertones of delightfully floral honey… When I was little my Uncle Bob used to take me on walks around their amazing garden in spring and summer. Right down the bottom, through the gate, over the back paddock, in the corner which rose up to meet the field beyond, were swathes of squat stinging nettles with white and purple flowers. Uncle Bob taught me to stroke the tops of the nettle leaves to avoid their stings, to pick the tiny bell-like flowers and suck the sweet pollen from their necks. And that pollen hit is exactly how spring air tastes – this evening I was practically gulping it down it had such depth of flavour!
I’m still reeling over the weather we Brits are enjoying just now. The speed with which the seasons change takes me by surprise year on year. It feels just days since we were all wrapped up in gloves and hats, making disapproving comments about those brave enough to go without tights…
Now, the girls are bare-legged, the boys all-too-often bare-chested (particularly the ones who shouldn’t be!), and from my vantage point on the bus I find myself able to pass judgment on a fella wearing an overcoat and college scarf in the bright afternoon sun… It’s 19 degrees for pete’s sake!
On the corner of my street is a lovely church, and on my way home I couldn’t resist snapping some more spring flowers for you. The light was just so perfect!