Oh April, you are such a fickle thing, you have one foot dancing in Spring and one foot still very firmly planted in Winter. I do wish you'd make up your mind and leap forth into Spring! We had snow again on Saturday, late afternoon and suddenly there were giant feathery white flakes falling steadily from the sky. On Sunday morning there was a whiff of gentle Spring warmth so we went out for a short walk. The sun shone brightly and the daffodils looked beautiful (they are late blooming this year), and yet the surrounding hills were white with snow.
We meandered slowly up the lane....
....and into the quiet, sun dappled woodland.
The banks of wild garlic are looking spectacular, so bright and utterly green....
.... it's hard to take your eyes away, this carpet of living green is so mesmerising.
We took the high path around the top of the woodland, it was seriously muddy in places and there were some comedy slip-slidey moments as we descended back down to the river. Isn't the sound of laughter on a quiet Sunday morning so, so good? Fresh woodland air, gentle sunshine, mud and laughter, just lovely.
I spotted a single bluebell, and the sight of it made my heart skip.
On the spur of the moment, in a quiet patch of woodland with nobody else around, I picked some wild garlic to bring home. Beautiful, young, fresh little leaves with the most incredible scent. I always mean to do this every year and always procrastinate until it's too late - the wild garlic window is quite small, and now is the perfect time. I washed it and have it in the fridge now - tomorrow I'm planning on making a wild garlic pesto to stir into pasta, the flavour of April Woodland.