The morning started bright but very cold, with a blue sky promising another sunny day, then a dense mist followed, obliterating the surrounding fields. An hour later, this gave way to a grey haze, which I was mistaken into thinking might be the harbinger of another March day to gladden the heart, and help us forget the rain-soaked days that turned the neighbouring field into a lake; beguiling sea-gulls from the nearby estuary into thinking they’d found another playground to paddle in.
Among the recent bits of harmless, but amusing snippets of e-mailed information sent by friends with a similar sense of humour, I’ve learned that in the fifteenth century, here in UK, the law allowed a man to beat his wife with a stick no thicker than his thumb, hence, ‘the rule of thumb‘, and that golf, a new game invented in Scotland many years ago, got its name because it ruled,’Gentlemen Only…Ladies Forbidden’. How times change.
Yesterday was the first time I ventured to wander in the garden with a camera. Most days I’ve done no more than dash out for a quick sortie to fill the bird-containers, then dash back indoors to thaw – or dry out again. With yesterday’s sunshine, now a fast-fading memory, I still have the photographs to remind me of the sight of hundreds of crocuses glinting in the late afternoon sunshine, while remembering the field of giant docks and gargantuan black slugs we inherited among the buried bits of farm impedimenta, discarded by previous owners over the years.