mostly david ephgrave

The plum tree my wife bought me for my fortieth has started showing tiny shoots and leaves, which is a handy metaphor for a new beginning as far as these things go. It's surprising what such a tiny aspect of the natural world can do for your mood. Sitting in the garden now in the sun has given me a burst of energy I didn't have before. It's like a balm for the mind. Until I moved out of Hitchin, I've never had a garden, aside from a communal one at my first flat, which we never used due to some deep-seated need to hide from our neighbours. It's the same reflex that makes you pretend you've not seen someone you know on the street, only more intense, as you've less reason to chat to the guy who banged on the ceiling the night before because you were listening to Bob Dylan too loudly. Oh, those carefree student days (when I swear no-one smoked wacky baccy). (For an insight into our antics, my flatmate Mark was once an hour late for his girlfriend because we wer...

The cherry blossom tree outside my flat is currently in bloom. I love that tree. It’s beautiful. The blossom only lasts for a couple of weeks, but those few weeks are worth it. It doesn't bear fruit; it’s less cherry, more cheery. Seeing the blossom always lifts my mood. A family of wood pigeons once nested in it. They made for an unattractive, yet welcome, addition. I watched their progress from day to day until they eventually fledged the nest. Sometimes, the simplest things in life are the best.