Were the colours ever so glorious as this Spring?
Bird song never seemed so loud, so fresh, so close.
The very heavens have cleared, the air is pure, again.
Again? When were the skies ever so clear for so long?
Never in my memory. Everywhere Nature explodes
in our very faces, assailing all our awakened senses.
By the roadsides the pale primrose proudly asserts
herself, free from all the fumes of passing traffic,
even the badger thrives, road kill abounds no more.
Down in the quiet harbour a cormorant fished
undisturbed, unseen but by ourselves and the gulls.
An old neighbour called out from her doorway,
“It’s like someone stole away all the people.”