Spring, 2021

Mr. Right was fond of saying, at the time of change of seasons, that there was always a day when you could “tell.”  A day when a hint of frost told you that Winter was here, or a day when a certain damp chilliness announced that Summer had fled and Autumn was on its mellow and fruitful way.

Today is “that” day, and I know Spring is here.  Oh, not formally.  The calendar says it doesn’t officially start for another nine days.  But it’s here.  The birds say it is.  The lambs say it is.  The flowers say it is.

I say it is.  And my life, the last twelve months and more “on which I shall not look back with undiluted pleasure” (to borrow Queen Elizabeth’s memorable understatement), at last says it is.

Nothing is so beautiful as Spring
When weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush;
Thrush’s eggs look little low heavens, and thrush
Through the echoing timber does so rinse and wring
The ear, it strikes like lightnings to hear him sing;
The glassy peartree leaves and blooms, they brush
The descending blue; that blue is all in a rush
With richness; the racing lambs too have fair their fling.

What is all this juice and all this joy?A strain of the earth’s sweet being in the beginning
In Eden garden. – Have, get, before it cloy,
Before it cloud, Christ, lord, and sour with sinning,
Innocent mind and Mayday in girl and boy,
Most, O maid’s child, thy choice and worthy the winning.
Spring, Gerard Manley Hopkins 

Happy Spring.  Here’s to better days ahead:


1 thought on “Spring, 2021”

  1. WRT the “annus horribilis” remark: Poor Lilibet. There are days when I’d just like to give her a hug, and this is one of them.

    I remember her November 1992 Annus Horribilis speech. That was the year which marked the 40th anniversary of her accession to the throne and which marked the year: that Fergie and Andrew formally separated; that Princess Anne and Mark Phillips divorced; that Diana’s book was published, exposing the fact that her husband always made room for his (married) girlfriend in his life, even after he’d made his vows of fidelity to his own wife; that Elizabeth’s nephew committed suicide; that numerous covertly-taped conversations between, and or salacious photographs of, the younger generations of her family were made public; and, just a couple of weeks after her speech, the year that Charles and Diana announced their formal separation.

    Hard to believe things could get worse for the poor lady. But:

    2021 to 1992: HOLD MY BEER.

    Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose.

    Elizabeth, at the age of 94, knows this. The world would be a better place if the rest of us could fathom it too.

Leave a Reply