During my lengthy silence here, the seasons have moved on at last. Spring is indubitably springing.
In the fields, the new grass is grown enough for the cows to have been put out to pasture a few days ago. Every morning now we spy another calf, born in the quiet of the night. The swans are building a nest on the lochan; the oyster-catchers are digging scrapes in the garden urns to lay their eggs. And I have been busy in the garden, clearing and digging, planning and planting. For the first time since we took over Castle Beastie thirteen years ago – for the first time in my life – I find myself the head gardener. Quite a thought if you are as ignorant of gardening as me. Still, that surely means that I will learn by doing – the mistakes as well as the (I hope) successes.
We are still immersed in the school holidays, but my intention is to write here from time to time with reports from the front line of horticultural ignorance. It must be the sap rising that has made me want to return to blogging, if only occasionally, and with the usual haphazard subject matter apart from the garden. So with that gloriously British piece of enthusiasm said – onwards! And may the joys of spring be yours.