Spring is such a great time of year, such a great time to be out in the fields, walking the countryside, leaning on a country gate now and then to take in the view. To me, it seems a time of freedom, freedom from the ‘prison’ of the winter when doors and windows have to be closed to keep out the wind and the cold. Freedom from the short days. Freedom from layers of clothes. Freedom from hibernation as everything comes to life again. Spring is a time of new birth, new hopes, new expectations, a time for brushing off the cobwebs and for washing the sleepy dust from the eyes of life’s hibernation.
Isn’t that what creation does, to sweep away the gloom and deadness of winter, to wash everything down and give the countryside a lovely new and fresh coat of paint. And for our enjoyment! They say that autumn is the season of ‘mists and mellow fruitfulness – well Spring is the season of vibrant greens and yellow floweriness! In the meadows, the wild flowers are blooming, dandelions and bluebells, wild garlic, primroses and cowslips, and there are even some ‘flying flowers’ – butterflies – to liven the scene up as they flit seemingly aimlessly from flower to flower!
Suddenly we hear the birds singing, the beautiful skylark often serenades me as I walk and at the end of the day the blackbird takes over. It is the best sort of music ever! And suddenly, the children are singing as they play outside again running through the long grass in the fields – don’t you just love the sound of children playing, its such a happy sound. They are so free from cares and constraints and they have such wonder in everything they do. It is such a shame that age robs us of some of that creative wonder of discovery, and such a shame too that often computer games rob children of that wonder so early in life!
When I was walking this week, the meadows were so beautiful and I wanted to capture something of the freshness and freedom of the spring. The picture below is my feeble attempt at the impossible and as you look at it, imagine the sound of the skylarks and bees, the fresh smell of the grass, the babbling of the small brook that runs through the meadow, and the sound of happy and free children playing over the hill……..and wonder!
The Spring Meadow
Thanks for stopping by and reading the ramblings of The Dorset Rambler.
The Dorset Rambler
The Dorset Rambler 
A beautiful post, Terry. You’ve lifted us into that freedom and freshness of life that’s all around you, while at the same time conveying a poignancy that causes a longing inside of us to have less of the modern intrusions and more of what you’re experiencing. (Hope I’ve managed to say what I intended in an understandable manner.)
I am especially touched by your description of butterflies as ‘flying flowers.’ Perfect.
And your photo is just right — filled with those armfuls of bright flowers and carrying the eye to the brow of the hill just enough to make us feel we can almost hear those children.
I would so much like to see one of those big “coffee-table” books made up of your photos and text.