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APRIL 4TH.

A green hairstreak rests on a post looking like a gauze covered half coin.There are orange tips and yellow brimstones, red admirals and peacocks each seeking the warmth & probably an egg laying site.

I heard one cuckoo 3 days ago. A few more join the call today. Swallows add to their number every hour and Emile has looked at his journal. He saw the first on the 29th. March this year but last year it was on the 24th.

A hotter early April than I remember: 28 deg. but it can change at any moment. I have not forgotten the snow on May 4th. last year. But right now the insect chorus is hotting up too, the Sophora is leaning with the weight of its gold; great tits are in & out of the barn wall, lizards skitter along the stones and a grass snake, lovely in its grey, black & green skin slides the length of the fence base and then flicks fast into the thick nettle patch. I keep that as my secret.

I spend the day mowing, cutting, strimming and weeding. Emile suggests that a lunch stop is essential. He also suggests that he could drive in his tractor and plough up half the meadow for a potager. Not yet Emile, not yet, thanks. I take a supper break instead and light a fire as a chill creeps through the house.

My second visit to Mr. B delivered an astounding finale to his war time stories. I’ll write it in the next blog as I’m going up on the roof. It's late already. Here the huge crescent moon sits below the rest of its shape just like an eclipse. It dips below the line of the western hills and at its final glint there is a veiled, silver aura. I am watching time. An optimistic scops owl yearns for a mate.