It was truly glorious today, sunny and warm and definitely spring, although not *quite* so warm that setting off without my gloves on was a sensible idea (fortunately I’ve been got that way before and I had them in my pocket). I had a meeting in town and on days like today I wouldn’t have driven in for it had you paid me. I was hoping to leave in good enough time that I could pedal sedately and arrive looking sleek and cool and a true advertisement for cycle chic although in the end what happened was I was busy replying to emails until almost the last minute and then I made a last minute decision to swap my jumper for a shirt (no jumper!) and then another last minute decision to take my jacket after all, just to be safe, and then I remembered that the meeting was at the top of a biggish hill so I arrived in my usual glowing (as in ‘glowing like a horse’) condition, not aided by the fact that I only realised when I was almost there that I’d been gardening in the shirt and it showed. So that’s cycle chic as in ‘wear what you’d normally wear’ not cycle chic as in ‘actually looking chic’ – unless the gardening look is now in & the models have been stalking down the catwalk in cords with muddy knees and carefully applied dirt under their fingernails. Still, at least my jacket wasn’t on inside out, not of course that that ever happens.
But all this is by the by to what I wanted to say which was that although the swallows haven’t yet arrived (and I wish they’d hurry up because the bugs are getting out of hand already), I did at least have time to hear – and savour – the first mad twittering of a lark, invisibly high in the blue, blue sky. And if that’s a sound that doesn’t make your morning, then nothing will.