This spring has specialised in very specific kinds of abundance. In February it was snowdrops in extraordinary numbers, but last month it was dandelions. My most exulted sighting came as I drove out of upper Dovedale when, from the corner of my eye, I caught a blanket of gold running over the slope.
The flowers held the foreground before the eye travelled onwards to Sheen Hill in Staffordshire. We overuse the word “carpet”, but in this instance it was appropriate. Each bloom was about the same height as all its neighbours, and if you eliminated gaps in colour by getting down face to face with the flower heads, then the whole land was turned into a single glorious sunshine hue.
