What a long wet winter, very hard on wildlife never mind our spirits. I remember taking this picture of ferns about to unfurl last spring and it fills me with joy. Aside from the muddy swamp my garden has turned into over the past few months there are new buds and shoots everywhere and I spied two very loved up frogs in my pond today! I created the pond last May/June so am really hoping for frogspawn - nature's stamp of approval upon my humble efforts! It is also becoming lighter and brighter as the days lengthen - always makes me feel good. I saw a beautiful fox in the garden today also - I was alerted by the geese honking and flapping - it stopped in its tracks and stared at me as I rapped on the window feeling rather conflicted I must admit, as it was such a privilege to see such a beautiful creature so close up - but naturally I didn't want to lose any of the resident 'swamp' fowl! All is quiet again.
I have to laugh. Perhaps the welcome April sunshine is warming my heart and I am giddy with the sensation. It's just that I have to laugh at the whole idea of regularly blogging - let me clarify - I'm laughing at the idea of ME regularly blogging - posting comments and observations and updates on life. I made some rash promise I would post more often about six months ago, haha, silly me! What with life and that old wriggler - time! So I'm making no promises - I'm going to quietly add to and edit my lovely website and allow you to breeze in and out via the digitised ether as and when you like. That will suit us all, yes?
On a more important note, I think the daff above (picked from my friend's garden) is a Narcissus Poeticus.
It is said to have been named after the ancient greek legend of Narcissus, that raving beauty who was cruelly unkind to those who fell for him. It is cultivated for its oil which is a 'principal ingredient in 11% of modern quality perfumes', so says Wikipedia! I guess its looks and parfum can be interpreted as one side of the legend, but on the flip-side it is a powerful emetic, one of the most toxic daffs! You weren't going to eat them, were you? Although you could fall in love with them. I certainly do every Spring.
Seriously? I last wrote in November? 3rd year student and all that! But a lot has happened too - and losing my beautiful girl Jasmine in February was a huge blow. You will all know her from the pictures but she had been ill since last summer and never ceased to amaze everyone with her poise and charm - a love of everyone. A popular girl on campus too. Such a hole to be left with, yet I am not planning on getting another dog, that's what I say! Friends and family have been loving and supportive throughout and recognised, thankfully, that a dog is another person in a family, not just a hairy extra, but a constant source of unconditional love. Do I sound maudlin? It feels only right to share this news with you all and acknowledge the truly beautiful, gentle soul Jazzy was. She is buried back up in Devon where she spent so many happy years - her grave is on the edge of a large pond graced by honking geese and surrounded by thousands of christmas trees! A wonderful place to visit and remember her. OK we can put the hankies away now. I guess this means I'm back, and will try to be a blogger, or at best an intermittent blogger!
well, summer flew by, then autumn flung itself at me and I find myself peering into the 3rd drawer down and rekindling relationships with my modest collection of comforting jumpers. Hello old friends! I still have the bright orange billabong jumper that Anne gave me years ago when she was having a clearout! What am I like? But there's the 'new' alarmingly woolly, shades of blue, swirly- patterned one that I got at Oxfam this summer - it needs to be cold for that one! I love the melt of seasons, I love winter - the fact Jazz and I can have the beach to ourselves more often than not - a contemplative egret, some trilling oystercatchers and the steady accompaniment of whooshing splooshing waves and hissing sand, that rattling crackling sound of pebbles in the making. On this beach life is easy and joyous, celebratory even - but my thoughts swim to beaches elsewhere and I make wishes . . . . .