In the distance through the trees and the Saharan haze, you can just about see the long fold of the South Downs, a chalk ridge that divides the south of England with a prominence worthy of a landscape that was once at the bottom of the sea. The air is mild and the breeze gentle, with the seagulls wheeling high above surfing the thermal currents, looking for bugs newly emerged from the slumber of cold that is now fading into memory. Pair blossoms, cherry, and daffodils greet the warming air with their nectared kisses, lacing the air with sweet perfume and pollen, with the promise of swollen fruit and new bulbs to come.
The trees are becoming greener, stretching new sinuous limbs outward and upward, with nesting birds, magpies seeking refuge amongst them, while keeping a sideways glance for stalking cats, my cats.
The garden is looking a little unkempt, neglected through months of rain and cold, and life that has taken my attention away from it, but it is a wildlife haven buzzing with life and a perfect place for others creatures to inhabit while the humans watch from their windows of town houses and castles that dot the landscape.
Green stretches as far as the eye can see lookin’ out through my back window, with the lure of the beach and the English Channel behind me enticing Londoners, me notwithstanding, to enjoy the shade of the palm trees that grow along the stoney shores. So here I am in London-by-the-Sea as it is affectionately known by some, or preferably known by others like me as the English Riviera on account of the oodles of sunshine we usually have, and the temperate climes. Home of the Adonis Blue butterfly that soon will be unfurling it’s rare iridescent sky blue wings, just here, this side of the Downs, a native of the lands I now survey.
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