But what a beautiful spring it has been. There has been rain, but I don't mind as it's just made everything so much greener and more lush and there's been plenty of sunshine too. As I've walked the roads and paths around the village on my usual dogwalk route, I've watched the trees and hedgerows change. First the blackthorn blossom, the bank of yellow primroses by the railway line, the bright yellow gorse flowers and the occasional cowslip. Now they've faded and there are shiny buttercups, spiky nettles and delicate cow parsley at shoulder height. On the ground is a litter of confetti made from tall horse chestnut flower candles and pink tinged hawthorn blossom washed away too soon by the rain. And yesterday, to signal the beginning of summer, the first of the pale pink dog roses.
I've spent a lot of time alone this springtime. The child, who used to be my constant companion, is growing up and needs me less now. Our roles are changing: now she plucks my eyebrows; fixes my make up as my eyesight is fading. Calls me 'cute'. My husband has been cycling up mountains in the Peak District and around lakes in Scotland, chasing after his youth. Still, being alone is fine - they always come back to me.
|Ten years ago in her 'Cute' hoodie. Now I'm 'cute' it seems|