Morning light

When I came down to pour the day's first mug of tea at half past seven, the grass was silver with heavy dew; I'm not sure if there had been a frost. Low sun shone through the vibrant, dappled green of the hazels, and beyond the dark mass of the remaining pines, the Downs were hazy against a dazzlingly bright sky. I was sorry that Storm Eunice changed our trio of pines into a pair, but the gap left by the fallen tree has re-opened a view of the giant poplar and the hilltop which was obscured by growing trees several tears ago. This doesn't really capture the intensity of the light and colour, but I hope it gives some impression of this beautiful start to a lovely day.

The spring weather is continuing: today was mild and sunny, warm enough to read on the balcony with a cardigan, with a soft breeze to dry the laundry. A neighbour sent a text message offering spare tomato plants, which I was pleased to accept as they are a good deal further on than my late-sown ones, so I collected them and chatted a while in her pretty, bright flower garden. I washed large pots - I'm trying to be unaccustomedly hygienic after last year's whitefly disaster - and potted on the first two plants, as well as sowing lots more vegetable and herb seeds, dwarf French beans, courgettes, calabrese, winter savory and dill, leeks, spinach and beetroot. I hope the unexpected tomatoes will be warm enough in the unheated greenhouse, as I can't easily make space for them indoors.

This evening J is watching Encanto again as I feed her, but her bluetooth neckloop takes the sound to her hearing aids. This is extremely useful: it has spared me three evenings of Alvin and the Chipmunks this week. I can hear the soundtrack of Working Girl, which P is watching in the sitting room, and picture the action: one of my favourite eighties films, with giant permed hairstyles, the Staten Island ferry, a very young Harrison Ford, and Carly Simon's "Let the Rivers Run" which hauntingly accompanies the opening and closing sequences - nostalgia!