Today is the Spring Equinox. It seems that having delayed so long Spring has arrived very suddenly. The last time I wrote a post at midnight on a Sunday, there was a blizzard blowing. The pond was frozen six inches deep at the peak of the ice and snow. The terrible winter weather seems like a dream now; it’s almost like trying to remember a painful illness.
I ventured out on the Creek without a coat, it was miraculous to feel the sun again.
Whilst I was attempting to film the pigeons doing their thing I suddenly realised the tide had been silently coming in and I was more or less cut off on a little island of gravel. It wasn’t so serious as the water was only inches deep but all the same I had to jump to make sure my boots didn’t get soaking wet and it made me realise how easy it would be to become really marooned. Very dangerous really. I only noticed the waters rising because they had become very silent. When the tide comes in the rushing noise of the Creek at low tide stops and the surface of the water becomes glassily still and quiet.
The catkins were out, their greyish fur shining in the sunlight. I spotted some frogspawn in the pond and there are also dozens of newts. I spent some time lolling by the water’s edge; it felt warm and headily deliquescent after the harsh winter weather. There was a lovely aromatic aniseedy smell coming from the dried sedge and the bronzy stems of the water lilies looked wonderfully succulent under the surface, almost edible. Great gulps came now and then from under the pondweed, I think it was the newts coming up for air. I spent ages just lying on one of the rocks basking; lizards must feel like this when they wake up in the spring, just soaking up the heat. Tiny flies hovered over the surface and little black water snails swam about. There were sleepy looking bees just drowsing on the coltsfoot and the air was soft. High above the teeming little pond long trails from planes criss-crossed the blue sky.