At last Spring is etcetera, tra-la. In the bright sunlight the land looks strangely drab without its usual March display of leaf and blossom, but no doubt it will rush to catch up.
It's warm outside, bees are getting into the house, and it's almost time to look for mosquito-nets. Birds are warbling their nesting-songs; the redstarts are back on the terrace shouting "Get Orf Moy Lahnd!" every time I go into the kitchen.
A snake has sloughed by the steps outside my bedroom.
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