Anyway, the weather has certainly been changeable: sun, heavy rain, cold winds, more sun: whispers of "sumer is icumen in" one minute and woolly hat and gloves the next.
Today followed a similar pattern. The wind on the way up the road had a real nip in it as we set off for a pre-lunch ramble round the woods but, as usual, once in the woods and when the sun appeared it was almost sultry. The underappreciated and often mis-identified cow parsley is at its very best, a beautiful lacy cover perfect for exploration.
The grasses too come into their own now, graceful and colourful as flowers.
There`s been lots of dramatic skies
and with the yellow on the broom at last, the Travellers will be on the move:
Yellow on The Broom
Adam McNaughtan
When yellow's on the broom
When yellow's on the broom
I'll tak' ye on the road again
When yellow's on the broom
I ken ye dinna like it, lass,
Tae winter here in toon
For the scaldies aye miscry us
And they try tae put us doon
But it's hard to raise three bairns
In a single flea-box room
So I'll tak' ye on the road again
When yellow's on the broom
The scaldies cry us 'tinker dirt'
And sconce our bairns in school
Who cares what a scaldy thinks
For a scaldy's but a fool
He never heard the yarlin's song
Nor seen the flax in bloom
For they're a' cooped up in hooses
When the yellow's on the broom
No sale for pegs or baskets, noo
So just to stay alive
We have tae work at scaldy jobs
Frae nine o'clock till five
But we call no man our master
For we own the world's room
And we'll bid fareweel tae Brechin
When the yellow's on the broom
I'm weary for the springtime
Tae tak' the road yince mair
For the plantin' and the pearlin'
And the berry fields of Blair
We'll meet up wi' oor kinfolk
From a' the country roon'
When the ganaboot folk tak' the road
And the yellow's on the broom
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