Spring has picked the lock of Winter’s dungeon and escaped; the past week of endless sleet, snow showers and teeth-laden winds seems to have ended. This morning has been warm sunshine, birds singing and bees buzzing. (Memo to self: Plant more early perennials that suit emerging bees.)
The cumulus clouds building on the horizon do have the predictable midday belly of burnt umber and rose madder, but not the Payne’s grey of late. Directly overhead though is the optimistic ultramarine and those wispy white baby cloudlings that are still a few hours away from the grown-up business of holding rain.
It’s funny how much the appearance of sunshine and blue sky can lift the spirits.
Speaking of which….it’s the Spirit of Speyside Whisky Festival here so I’m off to revel in it. (I’m not driving, Officer.)