According to the calendar spring is well underway – the vernal equinox occurred last Friday. I was sailing from Cherbourg to Poole that day. Compared to last year, spring is slow and late arriving.
A home-made loaf of sourdough rye bread, fresh out of the oven. “Brotzeit” is good solid, rustic (and probably out of fashion) expression used in Austria and southern Germany for what the British might call a tea break.
The morning light may be grey and the calendar may insist that it is still winter, but nature has other ideas. The first two baby rabbits of the year have arrived in my garden only a few days ago, where they will spend the first few weeks of their tender lives.
One of the first sights that I encounter every morning is the view from the room, in which I get dressed. It could be anywhere and only happens, by life’s coincidences, to be Oliver’s Castle on Roundway Hill. The scenery is not spectacular. It is benign. Perhaps it is its modesty that makes it beautiful or maybe it is the comfort of a familiar sight. The view is the same and yet delivers a new impression every morning for the weather and the seasons.