i may not be the biggest crocus fan ever, but the first one is still always a delight. normally they pop up way ahead of everything else, but not this year. it was a really pale colour, almost mauve, but all my photos showed it the usual deep violet. i couldn't get the hue right so i just went for the effect it had on me... something bright and delicate amongst the dead leaves. i think i went a bit overboard with the adjustments but i do have an odd flare for drama so there...
the snowdrop is still unsure about opening up, traumatized by the stormy downpour the day before, no noubt. i cleared all dead stalks and debris off the lily bed but left a few oak leaves tucked around my baby to make it feel safe.
yesterday morning big neon-orange crane-riding hood took down the electric wiring that went past the house. not all of it, the lamp-posts still carry their own and phone lines. somehow the view is a little naked now, nonetheless. after all, i've looked at them for nearly thirty years now. and i never quite remember just how big the lamps really are... in my mind the arm is only about a metre long, but it's twice that, actually. (power comes via underground cables nowadays.)
i'm really tired and stressed out about travelling, when i should be brimming with excitement. no change is ever easy for me. yet it seems i need to start making that sort happen a lot in my life. i'm not as nervous about leaving as i am about coming back. and i react to the stress by not doing anything when i should be doing all kinds of thing before i go. now that's smart.
