"The wind and the rain abated and out of the storm there came forth sweetness."
The Blackthorn blossom almost gone, along with the pussy willows, giving way to the May blossom of the hawthorn trees and hedge bushes. Walking down to the Lugg meadows, past a fallen log in the ancient wood with bluebells, through the gate into the small meadow clear to trees with Red Campion and nettles beneath. The Red Campion, prolific in Herefordshire, flaunts her bright pink beautifully.
The gate at the end of the small meadow takes me back into the ancient wood, where the horse chestnut, a canopy of new finger-like leaves and large upright flowers, appears like an enormous candelabra.
Across the bridge over the brook to the long meadow, still wet from last night's storm. The sound of a song thrush high in the tree and even higher out of sight the skylark sings.
....As if by magic, overnight, buttercups are everywhere, carpeting the Long Meadow. . . .
. . . . "The wind and the rain abated and out of the storm there came forth sweetness. Two swallows swooped and banked in the clearing sky and Spring hastened from the meadow. There were a thousand and one little last- minute jobs yet to be done. there were nests to be inspected, with eggs of every description still waiting to be speckled. Chrysalises had to be woken and their stays loosened. Ladybirds required spotting and all manner of greedy grubs waiting to be fed...Vetch must be seeded, bindweed potted on, sow thistle scattered .. So much, so much to do!" . . . . (Kit Williams 'The Bee Book')
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