Unfurling

A bit of an EB at the end of the day: new growth in one of the potted ferns near our side door, where it's sheltered and shady. For me they definitely have a snaky hint about them, at this stage.
Otherwise - today's outing was to the matinee performance of JB Priestley's 'An Inspector Calls'.  Neither Richard nor I had seen the play before, and we'd booked it with some of the theatre tokens that Nik (R's eldest son) gave us for Christmas. It was a fabulous production, a revival of the version created for the National Theatre in 1992, by Stephen Daldry.
The Lyceum was full, with an incongruous and wonderful combination of grey-haired pensioners - including us - and some large groups of teenage school students (the play being a regular item on exam curricula).
It's a tribute to the production and the cast that barely a rustle or a murmur could be heard from the auditorium, during the one hour and fifty minutes of the performance... apart from audible gasps at some key moments. It's quite a long while since either of us has been so thoroughly absorbed by a piece of theatre.
So: thank you, Nik!  In a week that's been heavily dominated by back pain (Richard's) and a lingering cough and cold (mine), this was a real treat.