As the warm spring sun crept round the corner of the house, aiming for my right shoulder, I knew I’d have to hurry and finish rolling white paint onto the wall before brightness would dazzle and the heat scorch exposed pale skin. Not only that, the creeping sun shifted my attention back to the sounds and scents everywhere around, that while immersed in the painting task, I’d lost attention and let thoughts wander to a trail of things mundane. Maybe not so mundane when it comes time for dinner and there’s no food in the house, but that aside, it seems tardy and disrespectful to not keep awareness on all that’s going on, especially on a busy late spring day in the countryside. Birdsong, insects buzzing, wafts of various aromas should be enough to keep anyone’s mind focussed. My ears are not (yet) attuned to the various bird calls much beyond wood pigeons, crows and blue-tits, and blue-tits only due to the nest in a rusty metal pole at the edge of the garden. I don’t know why, when there are trees and bushes aplenty, that the nest was built there, my cats were equally confused and that’s probably the reason for the chosen location – cats! In recent weeks I’ve enjoyed the chitter-chatter between the parents and the babies and watched cheeky little heads popping out of a peak hole while parents issued loud warnings. It’s been going on for a while and then, a couple of days ago, the garden was quieter than usual, much too quiet and I knew that the feathered family had moved on. Maybe it’s them that I can hear in the trees – there’s no shortage of birds all around – I like to think of them all happily playing with the other species that keep me company whether I’m paying attention to them or not.
I can go for lengthy periods these days and forget about the drive to Hania that always inspired, there’s so much now literally on my doorstep. Or from behind a window: discreetly watching upside down finches soak up nectar from something, that in my ignorance I’d call weeds, sprouting up in the swaying poppy patch. But I don’t really refer to them as weeds – they’re welcome additions to the prolonged spring we are blessed with. And as for poppy patches…well, what to say that’s not been said, not been photographed? I can’t get enough of them…. Unfortunately some farmers, those hard working protectors of the land, will frequently massacre areas of wild flowers, for reasons I’d probably take issue with……….Enough said on that…… or perhaps not, sometimes I just can’t stop myself…..……the wanton use of weed-killer really irks my heart. Use a strimmer! A scythe even! Think of the birds and insects taken as collateral damage. I don’t know what happened to the nectar supping finches, can only hope they found a patch untainted by poison, that they’re out there flying with the blue-tits and the recently arrived swifts and swallows.
As fortune would have it, come mid-May a trip to Hania was called for. There’s no preparation possible for the feast of colourful displays all around, across mountains, along the national road all the way to town. I’m surrounded by beauty where I live but the impact of a bigger, a massive, canvas and greater varieties – well, ‘breathtaking’ barely covers the impact. This therapeutic trip ought to be provided for anyone suffering low spirits. I was gliding through an endless impressionist painting with a dancing in my chest as something wanted to burst free and join the show, while a light touch, a butterfly wing perhaps or a delicate poppy petal urged – keep your mind on the driving, keep your hands on the wheel and keep your hungry eyes on the road*, which of course I managed! I also managed to keep from being overly irked at the patches of prematurely scorched wildness, knowing that nature always fights back and will reveal her indomitable spirit later in the year. Besides, I was filling up with the steady flow of images, each one almost outdoing the previous, but in reality all of them as magnificent as the other and I arrived in Hania satiated and quite immune to the shop front temptations….well, to most of them…..
*borrowed/adapted from …. ??