Sunday 31.03.2019

When we first arrived on this hill, thirty years ago to the month, I thought the wind must never stop blowing, so long did it persist for those first few weeks. But it does of course. And you get Spring mornings like these: frost on the ground, sparkling in the sunshine, fresh, crisp, magically still air filled with birdsong and the trees poised to burst into leaf, almost as if they`re biding their time for the right moment.