Writing whilst walking. The different tones of green vaguely appear as the sun moves slowly across the flat fields. The first tree in the street that was in bloom shortly after I moved here last year has signs of pink again, blossom watch has begun. Sunny bright daffodils. Being watched by sheep chewing mouthfuls of hay. Single stems of ivy shingling up tree trunks. Mole hills and pot holes. Clipped hedges follow the line of the landscape beyond. The deep indentations of horseshoes in the muddy verges. Post-winter weather battered pan tiled roofs. Starting to think about repotting my houseplants that need it. Golden hour skies and long tree shadows. Spring is here at last. Birdsong.
HOUSEPLANTHOUSE 