It is Spring again.

It feels like weeks since I've had the stamina to walk

up the hill and over the fields,

and in that short time

 what looked like random rows of grass  

have turned into a field of waving green wheat ( or barley)

three feet tall....totally changing the look of the landscape....somehow bringing it alive with all this lush new growth.

 Field of buttercup, field of sheep, field of rape - nearly over now.

The spring flowers dotted in the hedgerows are so lovely...

I think this is pink campion but

I don't know the names of these pretty blue ones..

or these... maybe a wild orchid?

or the name of this enchanting  butterfly..

or this one - so cleverly camouflaged against  oak leaf....but it doesn't stop  me loving them all.

A few things about today..

A lovely young man in the Apple computer shop sorts out

"Your disc is nearly full"problem. I have 49,000 photos stored on my Mac - at least half of them  unnecessarily duplicated.

I have the car valeted inside and out - it feels like new....makes me feel clean too.

I bake a batch of banana and walnut muffins and stir fry lots of veggies for lunch. I'm running down the fridge contents ....going away for a week on Saturday.

I lay out some summer clothes on the bed - expecting hot days in Portugal next week.

I spend a long time pouring over the revised house layout  and send long email to architect in reply. Getting closer to the planning stage....not holding my breath though.

I talk to my sister -in-law on the phone. I tell her about the short video I watched this evening  when I was trying to make space on the computer... a video taken by her husband.... of us  all sitting round their dining room table, a cake with candles in the middle, singing happy birthday to Robin's 15 year  old nephew in July 2016. Robin struggling to speak, to sing, his mouth all lopsided, not being able to clap but joining in, laughing.... loving it all.

 It was the last time he saw his family.

And I read this today, by the poet Rainer Maria Rilke.

It is spring again. The earth is like a child that knows poems by heart.

And my body

 carries the poem

 of Robin and me

 written in every season

read aloud 

in my

heart.