Spring awakening
As I write there is a female pheasant on the square lawn pecking amongst the very first of the crocus. The cardoons in the long border are constantly covered with birds, blue tits, robins, goldfinch; even the woodpecker now makes daily visits to tap the stems. They are a triumph of success: they looked stately in the snow and now their heads blow into a mass of seeds. Along with the hollyhocks and the miscanthus, they've held up so well and even in the darkest, dullest days always offered some sort of interest.
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