Dreaming of SpringI think I knew something was different before I even opened my eyes this morning.
Pulling myself wearily out of bed I shuffled over to the window, pulled the blinds and gazed outside. Warm rays of early morning sunlight forced me to screw up my eyes and warmed my face – in that instant I knew Spring had finally arrived.
I love April. As unpredictable as a pregnant wife, it signals the end of the winter and the start of longer, warmer days ahead.
April is nature’s way of wiping the slate clean, giving you the chance to forget all about the cold and the snow and start again. For me it’s the first real month of the year – a time for optimism, a time to make plans and dream dreams.
Like a bear from a cave, you can finally emerge from your house after the long, dark winter months and reclaim the great outdoors. There’s nothing like a crisp spring morning to rejuvenate the soul, taking long walks through the fields, frozen dew softly crackling under your feet as day by day the watery April sun rises ever higher over the horizon.
Or being caught out in an April shower, getting soaked to the bone while dodging for shelter in shop doorways. But you don't get angry - rather just invigorated.
I love April for the daisies – the true April flower – which stubbornly push their way through the green grass and spatter the lawns and fields with Easter colour as birds sit in the thickening hedgerows singing courtship songs to each other.
In just a few days we’ll be able to hear the first call of the cuckoo, followed by Swallow day on April 15th, when the chimney swallows make their spectacular return from their winter retreat.
In April everything just seems a little easier – a little more alive. People have a spring in their step and smiles on their faces. You can’t help feeling somehow reborn, as if swept up in nature’s enthusiasm to show what it can really do.
As I looked out of the window this morning I knew something was different. The light in my eyes was stronger now – almost blinding.
“Wake up Daddy”, said Tom, as he pointed the torch right into my face.
Pulling myself wearily out of bed I shuffled over to the window, pulled the blinds and gazed outside.
“Bollocks” I thought to myself. “I forgot. I live in Norrland”.