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Posted by on April 13, 2013 in Place, Writing |

A daisy moment

A daisy moment

The last couple of weeks has been rather hellish. Not the place to go into reasons why, but the continuing wild, northerly, weather hasn’t helped. Out here we do get battered by the winds, but I’ve had several days at Dartington Hall recently which is more sheltered. As I was walking down the driveway earlier in the week I took the shortcut, which takes you past a venerable oak tree under whose arms every spring there is a vast circle of crocusses. It’s always been the first sign of spring – or rather, the maturing of spring into something warmer and more benign. In really good years the circle is whole and has thousands and thousands of blue and violet crocii, but when the weather has been more predictable, colder, with less light, the circle is sporadic and thin. ¬†This year it was sporadic and thin.

However, on this day, the sun was finally feeling warm, like a genuine breath of life. And as I walked towards the oak (the crocii, of course, being over long ago) there was a carpet of daisies sunning themselves in the dappled light. For a moment it took my breath away, for daisies feel warm, seem to belong to the summer (even though in reality you will see them out throughout the year in these parts). I took a not very convincing picture with the only camera to hand, on my phone. It doesn’t quite give the same sense of awe that I experienced at that moment.

13-4-daisies