The woods are at their most magical just at this moment. By which I mean, there is a surge of growth so strong you can almost taste it in the air, or feel it as a vibration in the earth. Sap is not just rising, but rushing: beech branches that held bundles of brown buds on Saturday are covered with green leaves today, and bluebells are flowering almost before my eyes.
Everywhere you look, there is new life: starry wood anemones, wild violets and shamrock-like wood sorrel embroider the grass, bare trees burst into green, baby rabbits scoot under the bushes and eggshells dot the ground here and there as nests fill up with hatchlings.
Low flying squadrons of wild duck quack overhead; roe deer lie low in the undergrowth to escape the sudden heat until flushed out by the dog. We have arrived at Beltane, the season of growth and fecundity, the most beautiful and blessed few weeks of the year.
You might enjoy The Merrie month of May, with my favourite medieval depiction of the month; or you can find a brief description of Beltane (and a lovely spring poem by A. E. Housman) in What colour is your May?