APRIL SHOWERS

 

The lightning struck, intensely bright, followed in almost the same instance by the thunderclap directly overhead that shook the car.

The rain continued to fall heavily beating a frantic tune on the car roof.

Then almost as quickly as the dark skies arrived, they were gone and the sun was out again although it was a few moments before the April shower stopped completely.

We were parked by the village green which was patterned with strips of freshly cut grass and when we got out of the car the mixture of sun, rain and cut grass the smell was intoxicating.

We locked the car and headed down the lane.

As if the switch on a great sound system had been flicked the bird life in the trees bordering the green exploded into a cacophony of sound as they emerged from their shelters to go about their business.

Then we turned off the lane into the woods where nature and man had left its mark.

The areas that had once been coppiced or pollarded now went their own way and the woods were full of life.

On the borders of woods, the old cut and lay hedge and the ancient hedgerows along the lanes teamed with a great abundance of life of all kinds.

A sobering reflection on this idyllic scene is that all the visible life was either predator or prey but that did not detract from its beauty in fact it enhanced it if anything.

Then the skies darken again, and the rain starts to fall, and we must make a dash for the car.

By the time we reach the car we are soaked to the skin and we quickly scrabble into the car as if it were possible to get any wetter.

Just as I close the door the lightning strikes again and then the thunder shakes the car once more.

What a wonderful and remarkable time spring is in the British Isles.

The unpredictability transforms, almost in a heartbeat, from tranquillity to chaos.

I wouldn’t want to live anywhere else.