There is a tiny hint of crisp heady spring in the air – a hint of a scent.
When I nipped out to buy wild bird seed (gotta to keep the birds healthy, fed and happy) I just had to stop on the way home to meet these new arrivals, heralds to the new Spring season that must surely not be too far away now.
Young Lambs – by John Clare (1920)
The spring is coming by a many signs;
The trays are up, the hedges broken down,
That fenced the haystack, and the remnant shines
Like some old antique fragment weathered brown.
And where suns peep, in every sheltered place,
The little early buttercups unfold
A glittering star or two—till many trace
The edges of the blackthorn clumps in gold.
And then a little lamb bolts up behind
The hill and wags his tail to meet the yoe,
And then another, sheltered from the wind,
Lies all his length as dead—and lets me go
Close bye and never stirs but baking lies,
With legs stretched out as though he could not rise.