As I turned sharp right just after entering the cemetery to follow my usual route around the perimeter, there they were. Pale, creamy yellow flowers with a deep yellow eye lined with honey guides set on a cushion of crinkly green leaves: my first primroses of the year. Spring is on the way. I had already photographed my first blossom a delicate, pale pink cherry plum (Prunus cerasifera) set off by reddish brown leaves. The pale pink flowers have a rich nail varnish centre from which emerge the stamens surrounding a bright yellow stigma. Birds were singing, now, and despite the chill 7C temperature with a brisk easterly breeze, when sheltered from the wind, the sun was warm and gathering strength. Daffodils and crocus were in flower with aconites still hanging on, although snowdrops are already fading. Hawthorn is beginning to come into leaf and I saw my first bumble bee of the year, a busy buff-tail. I remember my mother, brought up on the edge of the Witham fens in deepest Lincolnshire, used to eat the leaves and referred to them by their country name of bread and cheese; they have a fresh sweet, nutty flavour and are good in salads. Surprisingly the mass of blackthorn in the woodland burial ground and on the Horsefield is not yet in flower, although I have seen plenty elsewhere; that treat is yet to come. As I wandered around the outside of the burial ground I was delighted to spot a party of long-tailed tits industiously foraging in the young oaks. After leaving the woodland burial ground, as usual I checked on the small group of alders where I have seen goldfinch feeding acrobatically and hope, one day, to find redpoll. Today neither were present but the catkins were looking magnificent.
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