Lockdown from Bridport - Part 3 - Day 88

It's Good Friday and its a good Friday in every sense. The sun is shining, we can meet up with friends outside and we live in a beautiful part of the country. 

I sometimes struggle as I ponder what to write, it is 88 days after all of doing nothing apart from a familiar routine of what I'm allowed to do. Go nowhere, see no-one.

But today feels hopeful, it feels we are beginning to emerge from a long dark tunnel. Today in MIL's orchard was the first single solitary English bluebell had appeared, or we hope it is  (English that is..!)  We had enjoyed sharing a bottle of chilled rose on the terrace, the sun was still high in the sky and in the distance we could hear laughter coming from peoples gardens. The wind had dropped and the air felt positively spring like. The cat broke the contented reverie by disgracing itself but we merely all laughed about it.

Earlier on I had gone up to the church yard where my Father is buried. It was tranquil, the ground a carpet of primroses and celandine. I did a little tidying up noticing that the English lavender was thriving whereas the French lavender had given up the ghost completely. Won't be bothering with that again, I daresay it wasn't really acclimatised to the cold, or rather wasn't as robust as its English cousin..

Even though I had gone up there for quiet reflection it wasn't to be. The postman appeared  walking his dog and engaged in lively conversation. I saw the first Red Admiral butterfly flitting amongst the gravestones. I also noted the first buttercup out in bloom. There are small doses of hope out there, you just need to be able to see them.