April 7: Another glorious day. Cycled to Knowle. On the way found some Marsh Marigolds and Blackthorn in blossom. The Tadpoles have come out of the balls of jelly and career madly about the aquarium wagging their little black tails.
April 28: Showers of hail and sleet.
She also includes this little poem.
The Cry of the Children
by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
The young lambs are bleating n the meadows,
The you ng birds are chirping in the nest,
They young fawns are playing with the shadows,
The young flowers are blowing toward the west—
Go out, children, from the mine and from the city;
Sing out, children, as the little thrushes do;
Pluck your handfuls of meadow-cowslips pretty,
Laugh aloud to feel your fingers let them through!
by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
The young lambs are bleating n the meadows,
The you ng birds are chirping in the nest,
They young fawns are playing with the shadows,
The young flowers are blowing toward the west—
Go out, children, from the mine and from the city;
Sing out, children, as the little thrushes do;
Pluck your handfuls of meadow-cowslips pretty,
Laugh aloud to feel your fingers let them through!
A lovely reminder to our inner child to take a few moments from what we’re doing and appreciate nature.
Maybe even go tadpoling! I remember being so intrigued by them as a child—first poking globs of frogs’ eggs with a stick, coming back to scoop tadpoles into a jar and watch them swim, and then later catching them when they were tiny frogs that still had their tails.
What’s your favorite part of spring?
Happy April Fools Day!
Until next time,
Lee



