A thunderstorm in the night, a pink sunrise this morning, mist rising from the hills. Mild enough outside to linger on the porch for a moment, waiting for the tea water to boil. Tentative signs of spring, pops of color on the brown landscape, bluebirds and robins in the yard, a hint of the season of lush greens to come. A few spring flowers blooming in protected corners. Enough chives in the garden to snip for scrambled eggs. But still a predominantly tawny landscape, with little mounds of snow still hovering in the cooler hollows. Frog-bubbles in river pools. The river a sage-green with small whitecaps, running fast and high with meltwater. The light stretching long into the evening, with time for walks after the day’s work is done.
Upcoming travel, taking the office on the road, a change of work-venue. The weather predictions dire in Yorkshire and Cumbria, possibly a step back into raw, wet, late winter weather. I’ll be packing my hat and gloves, and rain-gear. But looking forward to walks, art and tea, in the pockets between work obligations and bad weather. And hoping the bluebirds move in to the little camper birdhouse while I’m away.