Sun on St. Bartholemews

Spring is - Looking over a gate as you walk past and realising that last time you passed there were just flattened pale stalks of dead grass and now there's a sea of colour and life amongst all the sun-warmed grave-stones. 
Who wants to live forever, when there's a chance of some part of you coming up brand new every year in a mass of crocus' and daffodils.

With the weather continuing so fine and threaded with a rather biting breeze, activity beckoned, so I went up to Whinlatterand trotted around the WOW trail to see what had changed there since last I went, before Christmas. As planned by the foresters, a lot more larch have been felled, opening up slopes that haven't had much light on them for 50 years and giving new views over Derwentwater. I wondered if this would affect the red squirrels, but there was one busy skittering about at the Hide. I start work again in a couple of weeks and need to get re-focussed on forest.

Then I drove down to the sailing club and ratched out some sail bag material to mend/remake the spinniker sock and took down a row redundant coat pegs. I do hate it when people use old screws that have worn down heads!! Teatime made up for it, sitting in the lee of the training container and watching the lake ruffle up and boat stays chatter in the wind.