Spring, you're needed.

I heard an interview with Richard Dawkins on his 80th birthday. To paraphrase he said that the way that he thought about death and ageing was driven by the understanding that being alive was an enormous privilege and that the vast majority of potential humans are never born. For me, nothing drives home that sense of privilege more than the spring.

My day job is essentially about safety and my lockdown has been punctuated by days away. In the late summer I travelled to Salisbury a couple of times to work with soldiers. That was echoed by an early spring trip to Northumberland as part of the same project. On the way up, the weather was glorious. Having watched the heart of England fall asleep in September, I was treated to the chance to watch it wake up all along the Great North Road as though I was taking a core sample of spring in England. I find that there is a progression between the early blossom of sloes and mirabelles on bare branches and the flush of new leaves. One has a spectacular contrast in the sun, the other is a gentle rush, as though the trees are wiping the sleep from their eyes. That filled me with joy. I watch the trees coming awake in the Night Planted Orchard with unusual impatience.

Come on spring, we need you now more than we ever have.