Today it is Lenten ashes and grey snow falling with rain, tiny flakes clinging to a fragile web drifting in the air. The yearly treat of crispy pancakes sprinkled with sugar and dripping with lemon juice a fading memory from a shriven Tuesday.
Yesterday, the sun peeped out through the mist, birds flitted from tree to branch, clouds of yellow crocus glowed under the copper beech, a seagull cried overhead and I looked up and......saw a heron!
Yes, definitly a heron. Honest. It was opening and closing its beak and everything.
Nature is a wonderful thing and I have learned lately that if we stand any chance of understanding it at all, it must be studied at the molecular level.
Watching a programme last week, I gathered that the most exciting place to be is on the edge of a proton waterfall. (I think this is the place from which genius leaps towards Nobel prizes.) And the most surprising thing about GPS is that it registers an increase of electons in the high atmosphere, just before an earthquake.
So perhaps technology ia also a thing of wonder.
And the heron? Are they supposed to sound like gulls? I have no idea. Perhaps this one had just been spending too much time down on the beach, hanging around with the wrong crowd.
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