Changes, changes

Every day things change out there in the woods. But most of the changes are so small that they go unreported. Perhaps that's a bad thing - I should make proper notes and compare seasons and write it all down in a diary, but I would rather wonder at it all than analyse it.

This morning the sun is shining and the sky is blue. If it weren't for the ash which has split about four feet off the ground, spreading its branches in all directions and creating a very big hole in the canopy, and the mud underfoot, it would be difficult to credit the contrast between today's weather and the day before yesterday. The bees are back buzzing round the ivy on the shore - I never realised there were that many different bee species - and the hazel at the top of the steps leading to the woods has tiny little unripe catkins all over its branches, mixed in with the unripe but rapidly colouring fruit.