A Spring Afternoon.

I set off with the heavy grey skies of the morning clearing and the sun warm on my face and head round the corner to my wood.
New growth and bird song are everywhere,hopes are high and hearts are lifted!
The fields on the other side of the wood are a bright verdant green,the busy farmer's year already well on it's way.
There's a Robin singing beautifully in a nearby budding tree and a Buzzard's mew is carried on the breeze as it passes overhead.
I can hear a Wagtail's calls somewhere over the blossoming hedges and the sudden loud flaps as a startled Woodpigeon takes flight.
Turning now towards the sun the warmth is magnified and I soon arrive at the village centre,shop doors are open,music playing through opened windows and somewhere in the distance the rumble of the long forgotten sound of a lawnmower.
Folk suddenly have time to stand and chat without being huddled into multi layers of clothing before dashing back to their tightly closed doors and pre-warmed houses.
Cats sprawl on sun warmed walls,stretching lazily and sleepily barely noticing as I pass,while brightly coloured spring bulbs adorn every tiny patch of front garden.
If I close my eyes I can almost hear the soon to return Swift's screams as they career wildly through the old familiar streets of their summer haunts.
I carry on down the old hill with a feeling of renewed vigour as memories of cold and damp winters days retreat with every step I take towards home.