A Few Rare Notes.

The Shire is a picture at the moment, especially when the grey clouds move away and the wind stops taking the edge off the temperature. So much of the wild growth is not only precocious, but rampant as well. Such is true of the bluebells – my favourite wild flower – and the wild garlic, both of which are not only prolific but springing up in places where I’ve never seen them before. Most notable of all, though, has been the abundance of blossom on the blackthorn trees and bushes. Thick blocks of white everywhere in hedgerows, fields, and at the margins of wood and copse. Hawthorn next, hopefully.

Elsewhere…

I answered a woman’s question recently with disarmingly simple honesty. She called me ‘a beautiful soul.’ Well now, fine opinions are very much a rarity these days so I chose to bask briefly in the light – lime or otherwise – and decline to mention the rust gnawing away at the chassis.

And a man said ‘nice to see you’ today. My immediate response to any man who says ‘nice to see you’ is suspicion, and the same would hold true for many women. There is, however, one woman from whom I would like to hear ‘nice to see you’, but the likelihood is exceedingly remote and so I choose not to dwell on the matter. Oddly enough I saw her today for all of around two seconds. She was driving a passing car, but she evidently didn’t see me. She hardly ever does. Maybe I’ve developed that skill which some spies and secret agents are said to have – the ability to remain invisible in plain sight.