Crocus

After dog-walking first thing, K disappears for a mornings shopping with H. I have a few plans for the day, but they could be altered to suit as events unfold.

It's a warm, sunny morning and the sky is blue; no clouds, just a haze over the distant Severn estuary. A group of buzzards; two, no three, no five! are lazily soaring on the thermals.

There's "magic" in the air. I've settled on the bench outside to absorb some of "Towards The Source", a book I bought yesterday after meeting. It's calming, relaxing. Herbie, the in-laws cat, arrives and settles alongside me on the bench, occasionally lazily flicking the end of his tail. He settles into a posture of homage, paws outstretched in front of him as he lays prostrate on the cushion.

A few family groups wander through the cul-de-sac, Jehovahs Witnesses perhaps? They leave me to photographing the crocuses, trying to catch the visiting bees on the flowers. A gaggle of young women - girls - bustles through, like something out of Dylan Thomas' Undermilk Wood. Three of them chattering away, one pushing a child in a buggy. Buxom lasses in short dresses, has summer arrived and nobody told me? The sun glints off their enormous metal hoop ear-rings, and then they're gone. Next scene.....

It's like a forgotten Sunday morning from a long time ago, the peace punctuated and heightened by the occasional shotgun blast echoing around the hills above. I can even hear the bees noisily slurping away at the nectar, well.... almost. There are no aeroplanes to disturb the tranquil blue sky. Has the 21st century been switched off, someone forgot to put a few bob in the meter......

That Wales lost this afternoon is almost incidental, it's been a truly beautiful day.