Dandelion 2

 

 An unbroken horizon, sedge buffeted by wind, the warbling trill of Curlew. The sea wall. Neither land nor water. Combining the solidity of one with the open skies of the other

A succession of low pressure systems spiral in from Newfoundland. Chasing across the Atlantic, on the jet stream. Bringing strong southerly winds to British shores. Confining Stargazer to port, yet a while.

I duck into the shelter of a wood. As a bruise-black cloud pelts hailstones, mischeviously, for a moment. Dark green ivy scales bare branched trunks. Yellow lichen gleams, in the innocent shafts of sunshine, which follow. White cumulus clouds, of petals, float serenely overhead.

The wind roar falls silent. Replaced by the silvery chatter of countless songbirds. Hidden amongst myriad new shoots, in bud.

The thunder cloud sweeps by, carried on the breeze. To leave a crisp blue morning, on which to continue my walk.

I follow a, tree lined, sunken lane. In the lee, of the grassy shoulder, of the sea wall.  To either side, sprays of pink and white confetti celebrate spring's arrival.

 Goatham's neatly ordered orchard offers a short cut, down to Otterham Creek 

The apple trees are dressed in their Sunday-best finery. The better to woo passing honey bees. Pollen tipped stamen, poised above tempting, golden, pots of nectar.

The season is yet young. Stargazer and I must wait patiently, like the apple blossom, before our long nurtured cruising hopes bear fruit.

Credits

Synoptic Chart courtesy of  The Met Office.