Bennington Lordship

I hadn’t got together with my friends for about a month this time and was looking forward to a walk with them on Friday.  We planned to hunt for March hares madly boxing in the nearby fields. It is these daft escapades that gladden my heart.

That and the chat.

From Tuesday, I began to watch the weather. “Friday: Heavy rain”.

On Wednesday, I looked again. “Friday: Heavy rain”.

These things sometimes change at the last minute, but on Thursday: “Friday: Heavy rain”

“Heavy rain” I WhatsApped pannickily. “Maybe London?”

The others hedged.

“Will it be raining all day?”

“Clearing by two.” 

Two was late for us – we were usually getting ready to go home by then.

“Maybe the new Design Museum?”

Radio silence.

Then Carol suggested,

“This afternoon – Bennington Lordship.”

We drove.

Within the space of an acre or two Spring was sitting waiting for us. A mass of snowdrops were giving way to banks of crocuses.  Daphne Odorata filled the air with heady scent.  Dogwoods were sending up flames of pure colour. 

And we had a chat and a laugh. 
And some more chat.

No hares of course, but then, they don’t like the rain either. 

Maybe next time.