Sun-kissed

In the slow, cold spring we are having, it seems very early for grasses to be flowering - even this one, meadow foxtail, which is one of Britain's earliest-flowering species. I get a daily pollen alert from the Met Office but they have not yet mentioned grass pollen

City life creates its own microclimates. Those Edwardian terrace walls in the background, south facing, absorbing the sun's heat and re-radiating it, create a benign environment that moves things along faster than the rigours of our frost-pocket rural orchard. I have barely been able to justify mowing or own lawn. Helping out with this one took a bit of care not to over-exert the mower with the long, lush growth that is there already. A break to take a picture of this early riser was most welcome

Sitting on the ground, the smell of fresh-mown grass conjured all those images of long summer afternoons, hay-carts crossing the mill stream, white dresses and straw hats. Nostalgia for days we think we should have experienced, even if they never quite happened

The species primarily responsible for the wistful smell is sweet vernal grass, an unremarkable looking grass that comes into its own when cut - either for summer lawns or for hay. It is still included in some farm seed mixes, despite not being particularly productive, because its smell persists in the dry hay - giving out a sweet, wholesome smell that makes it more saleable, especially to the particularly lucrative horse-owning market. Whether the smell makes it any more palatable to its actual four-legged consumers is not so certain

So we came up from the country to the city to mow grass and enjoy the sun outdoors! The return journey was blessed by a sunset that seemed to go on for ever, with beautiful evening light setting fire to the tops of the Warwickshire blackthorn hedges still, unbelievably, in full bloom way past their usual season. The sun whispered to me that maybe, this year, we will have those long, lazy summer afternoons...