Rain

I can't recall exactly on which day the rain started, but it feels as though it has rained for a long time. It's been cold rain, with a cold wind behind it much of the time. I stayed in most of yesterday and succumbed to the cold by putting the central heating on around 5.00 p.m. I always used to make it a rule never to use the central heating after the end of April - it may even have been March at one time.

Paul and I went out for a walk in the early evening yesterday. There was still a light rain when we went out; it ceased after about 20 minutes and it wasn't a bad evening after that - not great though. We were only out a little over an hour, taking the circular route from here through Weston Woods. The woods were thickly carpeted with white ransomes (wild garlic) and bluebells. There were clumps of cow parsley bordering the path through the woods too - at least were the path was wide and the trees letting light through. Ransomes remind me of Sibford as they grew in the small patch of woodland beside the path leading from the Manor up to the Hill. Cow parsley reminds me of East Garston. I remember particularly coming come from school for weekends and for half-term in the summer term and how, as we drove up School Lane towards our house the light was filtered through the trees that grew on either side of the road and the banks beneath them would be thick with cow parsley and the air heavy with the smell of it.

This reminds me that when I walked into Otley last week I suddenly spotted a small plant with a green cowl growing beside the footpath. Sure enough there inside the cowl was the sticky red-brown spike. Then I began to notice more and more of them. It is years since I've noticed any of these Lords and Ladies (or Cuckoo Pint) in the spring although I've often noticed them in late summer when only the stem remains, covered in a cluster of bright red - and poisonous - berries. Seeing these last week, I was instantly transported back to being six years old. It was when we first moved to East Garston from London. We stayed with Hester and Miriam Leavers at Yew Tree Coattage for the first few months, before moving on to a ground-floor flat in St. Jude's and then - six months after leaving London, and my Dad - to Old School House. The memory is of Hester, with her halo of white hair, pointing out the plants to me, showing me the delicate green cowl and the brown spike inside and explaining how flies were caught on the sticky spike and then eaten by the plant.

Sometimes I miss undulating Berkshire countryside, the green fields and the chalk of the Downs. Not often, but sometimes.

Today we spent the day in York as the Friendly Visit (i.e. Paul and Phil) were doing a spot at the folk day in the Black Lion pub. York was wet and the Ouse was running high.