You might say “so what?”, cows are usually in fields. True–but these cows haven’t been in the field at the back since October; they’ve been cooped up in the barn all winter. Sorry to go on about it, but something’s up.
My father spent a year in Arizona in 1944 training to be a fighter pilot.
He returned with a strong affection for America and a permanent tan. He used to delight us kids, about this time of the year, by quoting the so-called Brooklyn National Anthem “Ode to Spring”– which went:
Da spring is sprung
Da grass is riz
I wonder where dem boidies is?
Dem boids is on der wing.
Ain’t dat absoid?
Der little wings is on der boid!
There’s plenty of blue tit traffic to and from the bird table–which leans over the field where the cows are enjoying the fresh pasture.
The almond blossom is out–almost–enjoying the sunshine.
Lautrec market is buzzing–a smaller version of Realmont–and there’s a queue at the fish stall. Pots of daffodils are for sale at the épicerie [grocer] and people are talking in that animated fashion that indicates they know something’s up.
I pop into the tiny branch of the bank to do a transfer. Even the Manager is in a good mood.
No room for complacency though. He reminds me, with a bank manager’s useful caution, that things can change again and I remember that this time last year, there was snow on the ground.
Haiku from mid-March 2010:
A chill north wind–cuts,
And keeps the snow from melting,
In the midday sun.