Welcome to the attic of my mind. Mind the stairs, click the light on and have a rummage around my thoughts on writing, the art of everything second-hand, the natural world, music . . . just about everything. Probably not much about sport.
Wednesday, 17 March 2010
It can snow in April . . .
. . . But let's hope not.
All our neighbours are saying they remember the time when all the vine shoots froze off in April - year something, and, if there is snow still on the 'Pic de Brau' we're in for more, and they remember the year when the whole of Limoux slept in the bakery on la rue de la Goutine because they had lots of wood and a big fire.
Being one of those folks who look on the bright side generally, I would say something round and dangly to that outlook, and will stick with the birds on their firm assumption that SPRING IS HERE.
One of the most inspiring sights as we leave the slushy time is the almond blossom. This my favourite tree, at the top of our garden slope. Covered in as much sugar pink as a Barbara Cartland dressing gown, it waves its limbs in defiance of the North wind and heralds the the oncoming warmth.
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