April 2025
March is already turning into April after the winter storms of both weather and world affairs. Turning our attention to the awakening of Nature around us can be a blessing.
The poet William Wordsworth knew this when he greeted 1 March 1798 with:
It is the first mild day of March:
Each minute sweeter than before,
The red-breast sings from the tall larch
That stands beside our door.
And a few years later he greeted the calm after a spring storm with:
All things that love the sun are out of doors;
The sky rejoices in the morning’s birth;
The grass is bright with rain-drops;
The hare is running races in her mirth;
And with her feet she from the plashy earth
Raises a mist, that, glittering in the sun,
Runs with her all the way, wherever she doth run.
What a marvellous picture – the joy of life, careless to human problems! A friend saw two hares racing around on the Bridport hills recently, so you might be lucky too.
Wordsworth’s observations of Nature went far beyond simple ‘prettiness’. He knew that we tend to live life preoccupied with worry and care, forgetting Nature’s power to heal and refresh. His March poem celebrating being out of doors goes on:
One moment now may give us more
Than fifty years of reason.
For a few weeks now, Rambler’s local song thrushes have been practising their song – a few rather undignified squawks becoming gradually more melodious. Have they forgotten over the winter how to sing? Perhaps these are new recruits learning their craft. Now they are in full flow, but the jubilant song won’t last forever, so just enjoy it while you can.
If you can, get outside and watch the countryside’s browns and greys turning to green, and look and listen for the sights and sounds of Nature waking up. Bluebells and red campion in the woods, the raucous arguing of rooks in the trees along Pymore Lane, that spring green of unfurling hawthorn leaves, the ‘craak’ of the ravens wheeling above their nest. And our local world is swelled not just by human visitors in West Bay but also by the birds that have travelled many miles to summer here – chiffchaff, blackcap with his melodious song, and later the martins, swallows and swifts. Among the reeds beside our local rivers, listen for the ‘churr churr’ of the reed warbler or watch for the black head of the reed bunting darting among the reeds.
We may not all be constant ramblers like Wordsworth but we can enjoy and be refreshed by the small things of Nature that are all around us.
Happy rambling!
RAMBLER