…the grass is riz
I wonder where the boidies is
Some say the boid is on the wing
But that’s absoid
The wing is on the boid!
I remember my Dad reciting this to me on many an occasion (as, it turns out, do others – I assume it was their Dad, not mine – for example The Other Side of 55). For reasons that were never clear, he put on a New York accent so boid rhymed with void. Whatever accent you use, spring is most definitely here (well, in this hemisphere anyway), proving that the seasons are still turning albeit it in bizarre ways. I await snow in July to go tobogganing.
In the meantime, I am enjoying the springiness here in the south in my favourite place in Reading (after the cinema, pub and the restaurant) – the cemetery at Cemetery Junction. It’s a fascinating place and uses deer to graze the land. Finally, I have managed to capture a half-decent picture of one:
And hopefully our nest box at home in Wales will soon be ringing to the sound of baby blue tits.
Welcome back Spring!