One of my favourite authors, right up there with Maupassant and Thomas Hardy, as presented by Sue Vincent.
There was a loud buzzing coming from behind the willow screen, echoing in the narrow passage beside the house. I stood still and waited, watching with a smile as the first bumblebee of spring emerged from its winter quarters.
The fog had lifted, revealing a sky of clear blue. I took off my fleece to wash the car, for the first time this year, I was too warm… and it is only February. Everywhere you look there are signs of spring and it lifts the heart.
Looking up, I caught sight of the year’s first butterfly, a good month earlier than the last two years. Once again, it was a deep yellow… almost golden.
I thought back to something I had written a couple of years ago, because, as always, a yellow butterfly takes me straight back to childhood and Moomin Valley, for…
“…as everyone knows, if the first butterfly…
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