Sycamore

This magnificent sycamore stands just outside our garden, between the barn and gamekeeper's outbuildings. I can see this tree as I lie in bed (we never close the curtains as we're not overlooked) and enjoy seeing her change with the passing seasons.
Over the last week or so, the leaves and flowers have suddenly opened with a flourish. The flowers are highly attractive to a host of insects, all of which hum their thanks, as they fly from flower to flower. We have another sycamore in the west of the garden, similarly endowed with flowers but a week or so behind the other - sitting beneath it, listening to the happy symphony of humming insects, is one of my personal markers of spring.
Yet another journal title change; heaven forfend I might cause the odd blipper or two to get themselves in a fankle over the name of a character from Russian mythology.. I trust this title will be broad enough to cover all tastes.