Hare here! A signature movement in the grass. Loping through. A sight for summer. We have missed them. Later, a pair of deer, too, wander idly through the meadow, until one, ears alert, spots me and slopes away. The red squirrel leaps through the trees that wrap around the garden, bouncing off skinny branches.
There has been a seasonal shift in the time we have been away. Jutland, slower to spring than the UK, gives us a second, glorious bite at the bird cherry blossom.
Some tree leaf is still barely there, more of a lemon-green watercolour wash. The meadow is alive with wildflowers. Wood sorrel and wood anemone spills down the banks. Stitchwort shines.
Astonishing spreads of cowslips mingle with sparkling dandelion and celandine, host to many kinds of insects. We watch as bees flit from flower to flower, dangling in the snakeshead fritillary.
The pear blossom is alive with bees and other flying insects. The redcurrants and blackcurrants, too. The old-school apple is lagging a little behind.
The wildflower mixes we sowed a few weeks ago are showing through. The impulse poppy in the window box has taken at an almost alarming rate. We will need to transfer much of it.
There are patches of a purple anemone, blue Grecian windflower according to Pl@ntNet, though we’ve no idea how it got there. There are swathes of nearby woods carpeted with wood anemones and celandine, facing the Scandi sun. We wander through the pathways entranced.
The beach rugosa are alive with fresh leaf. Soon the shore too will be scented. We watch the skylark hover, wings fluttering. The peewits swoon. The sand martins arrive.
Henri has been persuaded on No Mow May. The meadow will be left to its own devices. The wildflowers and grasses will live a fuller life. We take a quiet walkabout first thing every morning. Almost too much to see.
Allan Jenkins’s Plot 29 (4th Estate, £9.99) is out now. Order it for £8.49 from guardianbookshop.com
