(no subject)

[caddyman]

Lenten is come with loue to toune,
With blosmen and with briddes roune
That al this blisse bryngeth.
Dayeseyes in this dales,
Notes suete of nyhtegales,
Vch foul song syngeth.
The threstelcoc him threteth oo.
Away is huere wynter woo
When woderoue springeth.
This foules syngeth ferly fele
Ant wlyteth on huere wynter wele
That al the wode ryngeth.

It's all been a rehearsal up until today. No matter what it says on the calendar, it isn't ready until it's ready; nature won't be rushed by anything as mundane as the printed word, or the say so of mankind's timetable.

And today, it is ready, thank you very much.

The balance has tipped. The buds are open a little bit more than they were; the balance of leaf to twig has shifted in favour of the former. The blossom is fuller and fully bright, the flowers open and pointing at the sun, and in profusion. The sun is out, a little stronger, but not over powering. The shy is blue and the breeze light and fresh. Trip worker bees are out and about getting the first shopping of the year for the hive, and the world is a brighter, fresher green than it was yesterday.

One day every year this happens: the world is suddenly and noticeably greener, fresher and more vibrant.

Forget your calendars. Nature is ready, and it's putting on its show.

Today it is Spring.