28 February 2021

Late February seems to have decided it’s April. The last three days of my least favourite month have been glorious.

We managed to dry the bedsheets outside on Friday. Yesterday, I heard my first curlew of the year burbling across the fields from the general direction of the Moor. It only lasted for about three seconds, but it quite made my day. Later, on an errand into Hebden Bridge, I was surrounded by birdsong and budding trees. And, as I was lying in bed listening to the half-hearted dawn chorus this morning, I was thrilled to hear a curlew calling at length from the field in front of the house.

And, to cap it all, tomorrow is March. Things are starting to look up.

Pussy willow

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