This pile of gunge is what emerged when I forced water through a section of hose between the spring and the pond.
It’s hard to believe it built up over just a few months.
I was glad to hear water tinkling into the pond once more.
There isn’t a lion’s mouth for the water to come out of but I’d love it if there were.
This is water from the spring, emerging to cascade down the waterfall we built for it years ago.
The pipe above was broken after a stake got driven through it, but Giovanni and I repaired it by threading through a new pipe of a slightly smaller bore.
Now the pond at the bottom is full again and there’s the music of water in the garden – for as long as rain feeds the spring, that is.
Beside the track at the top of the orchard, driving quickly past I thought I saw a primrose.
It looked like just the one, half way up a muddy bank.
But when I went to have a proper look later on, I found dozens of blooms.
I wouldn’t say the place was exactly carpeted, but it was lovely to see that the plants are spreading.
I grabbed a quick photo because it was just starting to rain.
Our grown-from-a-pip grapefruit tree didn’t get its normal summer airing last year.
Which is a shame, because it probably looks forward to getting the stove ash blown off its leaves and exchanging one sort of parasite for another.
It doesn’t seem to have disheartened it, though.
We’ve given up on it producing any flowers let alone fruit, but there’s still a tremendous life-force in it giving rise to little shoots like the one in the photo.
Spring has happened indoors ahead of outdoors.
Clive’s admission to the Rehabilitation Centre has been permanently cancelled owing to erroneous factual information being imparted to them by a mysterious third party. I haven’t been able to find out the identity of the third party, nor ascertain why they were given more credence than both the official report and my contradiction.
I spent all morning on the phone, and finally went for a walk in the afternoon.
One of the pleasures or annoyances (depending on how you view it) of going for a walk on your own land is that you inevitably find something to fix.
In this case it was the pipe which emerges from a little stone building cut into the hillside. It conducts water from the spring through various tubes and structures as far as the pond.
It’s possible I left one of the screw fittings loose to mitigate the onward flow last winter, but it’s also possible that a hunter wanted to give his dog some water and filled the little stainless steel bowl there.
In any case, there was a continuous stream of water coming out from the fitting, and the lime scale caked on the thread made it difficult to screw up tight. I spent some time on the case, and seem to have reduced the stream to a drip!
These graceful flower spikes at first glance look very similar.
One, the orchid, comes just a couple of weeks before the other in spring; both grow in long grass.
If they were more similar, I would wonder if it was a case of convergent evolution.
But as it is, they’re alike enough to be successive fairy princesses of the meadows.
These two flowers are the perfect complement one for another.
The clumps in the photo, which are by the bole of the big oak next to the house, originated as skinny little plants which I dug up from the wood at the top of the hill 4 years ago.
Being still our land, I didn’t reckon I’d committed any crime.
I’ve been wanting to visit the wood, or even just work my way round the slopes immediately below the house, because primroses and violets are everywhere, hiding in the dead leaves or the long grass. But I just haven’t had time.
I long for summer, but it’s still a shame how spring slips away.