Spring can't be too far off when you see buds like this waiting for the winter months to pass.
The introduction of a cup of tea - a soap opera cliché - as a solution to the trials of everyday life is part of the way we think about England. So I am surprised, the other day, when reading Les Thibault by Roger Martin du Gard, to find the author, who won the Nobel Prize for literature in 1937, using the a cup of tea in a French setting. "Laissez-moi vous faire une tasse de thé," says a character, a doctor as it happens, to his brother who has got into trouble and needs to be calmed.
The crow, which I have come to call Mr Crow, because he seems so human in his ponderous habits, is back in the Grove. I was just thinking that I hadn't seen him for a few days, when he flies in front of me and, his wings spread, flops to the ground. He has part of a sandwich in his beak which he proceeds to demolish on the grass, pecking at the ground in between beak fulls, perhaps to augment his meal with some nourishing worms.