March comes in like a lion … a very wet and windy lion this year! The rivers and rhynes of the Levels are full to overflowing. The water meadows behind our house are part of the managed flood plain. The sluices are opened regularly to let the water onto the fields and relieve the pressure further up the river system. We wake in the morning to find a glistening, silvery ocean. And before long, the watery birds have stopped to investigate. As dusk falls there is the sound of ducks dabbling in the shallows. They pipe and whistle gently to each other.
In the winter-dark hedgerow, there are the acid stars of wild daffodils and the promise of clumps of primrose before long. Prickly blackthorn (prunus spinosa), always the earliest to flower, has made confetti in the lanes. Her delicate white petals have been tossed and ripped by exuberant Storm Freya.
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