May

I have been in the Mild, Mild West, visiting family and a new-born and poorly grandson, now happily recovered and flourishing. I was away much longer than usual, and when I came back Ayrshire had been transformed. Every roadside was white with cow-parsley, or Queen Ann’s Lace, to give it its more poetic name, and russet, cream and purple with water avens, and the hedgerows covered in May blossom, just at its fullest and finest, the first flowers not et dropping much, while the middle flowering branches were open. Every tree is still a distinctive green, hawthorn, beech, rowan at once distinguishable by colour alone. And scent everywhere – the scent of May, and behind it, a tang of sea, and often, oddly comforting, a faint whiff of sheep. This is the most abundant moment of spring, and in a day of so it will slip over into early summer. There are only a very few days when it is like this – stunning, abundant. One feels that one should do nothing but stare and stare and try to fix the memory.

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3 responses to “May

  1. ..and pet the long neglected cat.

  2. rosemaryhannah

    Cat had the best of it, as she stayed in her own home, fed and visited. The poor dogs were in prison, and very very relieved to be restored to civilian life.

  3. I thought they’d gone with you. Just as well, probably.

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