Spring into summer

It seems scarcely credible that we lose an hour of sleep next weekend when we put the clocks forward and we move officially into British Summer Time.  Things should, by rights, be warming up by now but, instead, we are lucky if we see the temperature rise above 5 or 6 degrees at its peak during the day.  People are still going out wearing overcoats, scarves and woolly hats.  I suppose at least here in the south we are luckier than the folks north of London who are under several inches of snow - but they missed out when we had it a couple of weeks ago.  It was a week before that when we thought spring had arrived - for two days!  There was a hen blackbird in the garden busy picking up bits of moss and flying backwards and forwards to and from the hedge where she was presumably lining her nest.  Meanwhile, sparrows where picking pieces of our neighbour's pampas grass for the same reason.  But all nest-building has come to a halt and the sparrows and finches are busy squabbling over whose turn it is on the bird feeders.

Not only do the clocks go forward next weekend, but that will be Easter as well and, as has become the tradition, the Old Bat and I will be spending a long weekend in Somerset on my cousin's farm.  We've been doing this for more than 25 years now and it's interesting to see the changes that have taken place over that time.  For a start, we always used to reckon that at least one meal would be eaten in the garden.  That practice stopped some years ago as the weather just hasn't been kind enough.  This year, for the first time ever, I will probably take a hat and gloves to wear when walking the dogs!  There seems no chance that the house martins will be back checking their nests under the eaves.

But come rain, shine or snow, I forecast a most enjoyable weekend.

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This was taken on the farm two years ago.  There's no chance of the trees being in leaf this year - but two years ago Easter was rather later.