I watched Spring come to the north. It burst open upon it like blossom on flowers. In his poem ‘The Waste Land T. S. Eliot said, ‘April is the cruellest month‘. Away with you, man. It’s a beautiful month. I watched it come across the north as if God had drawn back the curtains on Winter Hill and Cross Fell and Blencathra. Everywhere I went I saw people who looked glad to be alive. — Pies and Prejudice: In Search of the North: Stuart Maconie
It’s not a day for moody, grainy, black and white images. It has been a beautiful Spring day, the second in a row after a horribly long Winter. This week, the woods near where I work were dry enough to walk through in office shoes. Yesterday, there were half a dozen bluebells. Today there were hundreds.
The Marina at Hartlepool is as good as anywhere to enjoy food, beer, ice cream, sunshine and count your blessings; I did so today with my wife and children and a fair dose of happiness.