It has ceased to be

A morning doing things in the garden - first time cutting the lawn this year, and a bit of a tidy up.

I trimmed the herbs in this pot, and then decided to move it. The top sheared off (more fool me for lifting it from the top).

It's not just a pot. Well, it is - but my parents bought me it as a housewarming present when I moved into my first house, 34 years ago. So it has sentimental value. But it is no more, and awaits recycling.

I like this time of year. The great tits are calling all the time. It's always one of the earliest songs, carries a long way, and for me signifies the start of spring more than that of any other songbird. My time in the garden was accompanied by the repetitive call for much of the time, worth spending time out to enjoy.