Somewhere, in the middle distance, there is the sound of sighing, the susurration of dry reedbeds in the breaths of the first, softer, south-westerly winds of the year. Zephyr-mild and whispering the warmth of a climbing sun, these breezes are the harbingers of a brighter time to come. The colours of the February Fens are muted yet, with the fawns of stubble acres and last year’s broken sedges; the raw umbers and charcoals of the turned soil; the sky is still ice-blue.
The dykes are snow-melt bright, surface-painted by the leaning lines of power poles that disappear into distance. Mallard, pochard and teal splash to landings on open water; the geese are already on the move. South-facing banks and scrubby corners by tumbling corrugated sheds are stirring with life; a dandelion blooms; the cheerful, chirpy two-tone of great tits rings from the elders and the wren whirrs amongst the brambles. The blackbirds are already building in the holly hedge by the farmyard wall. Look closely and the sap green spears are thrusting; round village ponds the daffodil buds are clustering. More cold may come, but, inexorably, the Fens are swelling with warmth and light and water, a hope-filled harmony of growth and life. The land is rich with promise, with gilded silt.
February swings its way between the seasons, but the farmer eyes the sky and sniffs the air, kicks the drying turf and sees the scales dip into Spring; the Fens will soon open again to the ploughshares and the seed-drills. Soon… soon…
Christina James, crime novelist 
Lovely, poetic blog, and I like the pictures too- remind me of the Somerset levels
Bernie, that’s very kind of you! Yes, the Fens do ‘flat’ rather finely! 🙂
You paint such wonderful pictures with your words, and capture perfectly the early signs of Spring, even while Winter clings on. Thank you.
I have to admit, I had @blinky_flints’ little JJ in mind as I wrote! They buzz around with such hilarious purpose and beady-eyed scrutiny of the world. 🙂 Thank you for being so complimentary!
Yes, JJ has me wrapped around his little bandy legs 😍. Much of the day is spent putting mealworms out for him, after he has looked enquiringly at me through the patio doors! He has stiff competition from robins, blackbirds, coal tits etc. etc. A particularly delightful occupation in retirement 😉.
The tail is the winner, though, don’t you think? Remember seeing a whole successful brood out for their first flight across the garden (eight or more!), all zooming madly after mum. Priceless miniature moment!
Lovely post, Christina. Beautiful, atmospheric post and I love the photos too. Rural fenland looks gorgeous!
Thank you, Valerie. The skies do it for me most of all, but there is a magic in the space and the fresh air. Wildlife abounds. As you live in the Netherlands, you must understand. 🙂