These days, the mind wanders.
As Dickens put it, these are the best of times and the worst of times. The best because I’ve never known a more perfect Spring. The lanes around the Suffolk/Essex border are alive with May blossom, hawthorn, blackthorn and now apple. Our overgrown but still fertile orchard is giving signs of a bumper crop of apples. The cherry plums too are in bud by the thousand. The ash and sycamore trees are thick with fresh growth and the hazel and walnut look like an abundant crop of their own fruit will bring pleasure to the ruddy grey squirrels. We never get them.