In Cold Spring Air

A collection of spring poems

Photo by Biegun Wschodni on Unsplash

“Is the spring coming?" he said. "What is it like?"...
"It is the sun shining on the rain and the rain falling on the sunshine...”
Frances Hodgson Burnett, The Secret Garden

Spring conjures thoughts of brightly covered buds peeping through the grey setting of winter, shedding daylight and hope for the year ahead. Young animals appearing as they venture into this strange world, noses new and inquisitive, full of life and energy. Dawn chorus waking us from our own winters sleep.

But this week hasn’t felt like that has it?

The rain that doesn’t stop, flooding the fields where baby lambs stay close to their mothers, their wooly coats heavy and damp. The water spills from the sodden ground onto the roads as holiday makers splash through in their cars. What a disappointing start to the season. And yet, part of me hopes that a wet spring will welcome a warm summer, the flora well watered will come alive as soon as the sun warms the earth. We can only hope.

I have been thinking about the farming community a lot this week. My father in law is a farmer and the weather is always the first thing he comments on. Even on the days where it has been neither here nor there, he still finds something to say about it. It must be so important to them as the land depends on rain (but not too much) and sun (but not so it dries everything out). Farming in Britain must be hugely challenging.

To lighten the mood and in a bid to bring back spring ahead of the weekend, I want to share a collection of spring poems that I love and one that I have written myself.