Tuesday, 23 March 2010
If this is Spring then I want a refund !
Sunday was the first day of Spring and as we drove back home the Breton countryside shone and the radio trilled with every French primtemps song ever written and some of them that very probably never should have been. Click the links and you will get a small taster. The lane where we live was flecked with the first dancing heads of the wild daffodils , decked out in their egg yolk splendour, and small birds, daft with the intoxicating joy of spring sunshine, chased each other about the trees, even the ducks, those lovers of mud and ooze, joined in, building themselves a rather make shift nest in the vegetable patch and preening in the unexpected warmth. Having left on Friday in the rain and dark it was like returning home to another world.
We spent the weekend at the coast, he and I, in a village which clings to the coast of Finistere by its toes and stares across white sand to the crashing waves which cover the jagged rocks with spume as they come roaring in all the way from America. Where we live in central Brittany , Spring is far too cautious to have fully throw off her winter cloak just yet but there by the sea the Mimosa was almost past its best, blousy crimson Camilias grown tarnished in their last splendour showed offtheir fading beauty in the gardens and the banks were full of wild garlic daffodils and primroses . Sunshine bracing sea air to blow away the winter cobwebs and lots of clear light to soothe our jaded souls in.
Yesterday, enlivened by sunlight, I made heaps of oatmeal biscuits and piles of fairy cakes saving the shells for an Easter wreaths I plan to make from moss, twisted vines and speckled feathers from the chickens and ducks spring moult. I hung the weekend washing on the line watching it dance in the strong breeze and flap like tethered kites in its own dance to spring.
Today the weather has sobered up and put its sensible clothes back on. The daffodils look more like shipwrecked mariners in their so'westers and winter has slipped down the fields under cover of the night and stolen the sunshine away so that the roads slosh and slide with mud and everything once more looks unappetisingly damp and drear. The tumble dryer rumbles and the dogs are skulking under the table in case I notice them and send them out through the drizzle to sulk in their kennels. I have made bread and put on a pot of potato soup to warm chilled bones and cheer hearts dulled by the leaden sky. Next thing you know I will be forced to go and get more firewood, it is all most unseasonal and provocative and I am not amused in the slightest at this latest turn around.
I would be most grateful if someone would please kindly find out what happenned to this long expected spring and bring it back ?