The second post I had been intending to write started off as a paean to the hawthorn trees blossoming in the fields last spring. Then, as time passed and I failed to get around to it, I had to rethink it to include the rowan blossom, the heather, and then more.

The Japanese pay close attention to the calendar and its reflection in the natural world. Each month has plants and trees which are flowering – the plum blossom in February, then cherry, wisteria in May, ajisai in June, and so on and so on. At first I thought it a bit ridiculous, but I have a growing sense of interest in watching the changes in the landscape back at home. Maybe it’s a function of moving into more rural areas in Oxfordshire and now Wales, or getting slightly older, or maybe it’s a reflection of spending several extended periods away from home. Whatever the cause, whilst my wife feels the urge to get away and travel, I long to spend more time at home, watching things grow and change.

Last summer, however, was a wash out. The rain was almost relentless; the only respite was a week in the French countryside, which was a revelation of its own. No snow again this winter – apparently the year before we arrived was a harsh one – it was too in Abingdon. Where we are, up in the hills, spring still feels a little way off, and storm Doris has created a number of streams through the field where usually it’s not even boggy.

In addition to the plants, the birds mark the changing calendar. Swallows are perhaps the most striking, but there are others – the cuckoo’s call is a really beautiful marker of late spring, even if it is a Bad Bird, as we all know from school. In the last fortnight, a flock of geese have appeared at the neighbour’s pond, and for a month or so a buzzard has been hanging around our fields. I saw it the other day in a squabble with a heron. There is also a day, just passed, where I come out every year and the weather has improved and suddenly birdsong fills the air, filling a previously unnoticed void.

All winter, I’ve spent a lot of time trying to distinguish between really big crows and ravens – there is a good youtube video on Crow Or Raven, for example, but occasionally one flies over of such scale as to settle the question immediately. Like the cuckoos, the reality is different to my expectation. They’re not menacing or scary, but elegant and sleek.