April is the cruellest month

‘April is the cruellest month, breeding

Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing

Memory and desire, stirring  

Dull roots with spring rain.’

The warm weather disappeared last week and there’s been a cold east wind blowing here. Inside the house with no heating on it’s been hard. But I keep telling myself  how lucky we are, and that it’s not a matter of sinking or swimming….it’s just about saving money. And we do have our lovely log burner.

I’m sorry not to have blogged for so long, but my head has been full of private stuff I’ve been working through. I’ve picked up Keep Moving by Maggie Smith again, and I’m back on the cold showers. The world seems so dark right now, and my place in it a mystery.

My sweet peas were very late going in their pots this year, and only 12 out of 80 have germinated so far. They seem slower than usual. Is it the cold? The compost? Who knows? It’s disappointing, though.

So looking for new growth, I decided to pay close attention to the trees on the Trail because I think the new shoots and buds are so delightful - as lovely as lambs. The clarity of some of my photographs is disappointing as that cruel east wind was fluttering the branches.

The other thing that happened yesterday was that I finally finished my washing line painting. It’s called ‘March wind.’