Loveliest of trees, the cherry now
Is hung with bloom along the bough,
Now, of my threescore years and ten,
Twenty will not come again,
And take from seventy springs a score,
It only leaves me fifty more.
And since to look at things in bloom
Fifty springs are little room,
About the woodlands I will go
To see the cherry hung with snow.
Is my imagination playing tricks on me or is the blossom better, and even more bountiful this spring? Following the wet but very mild winter the trees seem to have out performed themselves with their showy splendour. Some of the blossom is from our garden but it was all shot locally during our evening walk yesterday.
A E Housman reminds us of how few springs we will enjoy during our lifetime, each one deserves to be cherished