The first, tangible signs of the changing seasons have hit the Pennines today.
I heard my first blackbird for the year while on an evening ride yesterday, and now I’m getting that faint but unmistakable smell of things growing after the winter slumber.
Blossom is starting to emerge on the trees at the back of our house and the lawn will soon need to attentions of the mower (and rake, judging by the amount of moss!)
I will stride up to the reservoir today and look forward to the acrobatics of its stockie rainbow trout as they munch on some early insect hatch, or windblown fodder off the surrounding hills trapped in the surface film of the inky water.
My thoughts are inevtably turning to long days away in the hills… but I’m also relishing the evening opportunities provided by the long light of summer in the North.
Roll on the clocks changing.