This amount of light, sunshine and relative warmth at 5pm are definite signs of spring. The equinox is past us, the nights are only getting longer. Not that Gus looks all that happy about it.
On another day of restricted horizons, the choice of pictures came down to this new bud, or a storm/sun combination shot from the afternoon. As I sometimes do, I asked Clare which her preference was, and she chose this one, considering “the optimism of spring” preferable. So yes, why not. Spring should be a time of optimism, even if just in little ways.
We don’t normally do spring graduations. These are replacements for the ceremonies that were going to take place in December and then were cancelled at two day’s notice because everyone in ‘Authority’ had another outbreak of paranoia that — let’s look back and be honest about this — turned out to have very little basis in sensible judgments of risk. Anyway, I’m glad they finally made it. It offers a, hopefully singular, opportunity to picture the daffodil/graduation conjunction. And yes, the litter is there but let’s try to work it into the composition somehow.
Spring definitely sprung in Hebden Bridge today. Everyone and everything seems to be stretching out to enjoy the sunshine.
Not quite Wordsworth’s multitude but there are certainly a lot of these sprouting outside the Ellen Wilkinson Building on campus at the moment, something the rather random focus point of this shot is intended to capture. This is the 700th Manchester shot to feature on here, by the way.
As reliable an early signifier of spring as anything else — and the crocuses are early this year. Nor has their February arrival diminished them in number, certainly not on this lawn in front of Lancaster Castle, anyway.
As we wait for the various right-wing journalists, lobbyists for the tobacco industry and corporate executives who now hold positions of power in this country to do something, anything, to help get us out of this state of incarceration — I go on a walk, look at the meadows, and don’t hold my breath.
At the moment, some pictures just need saving up for a day when there’s nothing else to show. The bluebells have been out for a few days now. Is there a flower with a more appropriate name? Beyond the fact that they don’t make a sound, it’s hard to fault it.
It is three years and a bit, or more precisely, 1,112 days, since I went to Japan and commented on that nation’s obsessive interest in cherry blossom, which they call sakura. It is certainly a sign of full spring, and so ephemeral that I wonder if the Japanese are getting their spiritual money’s worth from the sakura in this rather odd springtime. I will at least report that Hebden’s own cherry/cheery trees are in full blossom right now.
One thing to be thankful for at the moment is that we have a garden, and now, the fact that it is a few minutes’ walk from the house is a boon rather than a burden. The plum tree has blossomed well: maybe this will be one of its glut years.
Being 42 