It could be the early morning mist. The dew hanging onto a cobweb which is stretched over a gate. The pink bud on the pear tree that bursts; its white flower quivering in the wind.
The dawn chorus. Competing to be heard over each other. The roughness of the pheasant contrasting with the laughter of the woodpecker.
Holding the hand of my little girl as we walk around the field. Observing the colours that are appearing. Dots of pale blue, purple, a red tulip we’d never seen there before. Exploring behind the trees for a secret clump of bluebells. Trying to convince my daughter they are bluebells, even though we also have some white ones.
Watching the chickens as they scratch and squabble. The peacefulness that comes over you when you see a hen with its wing outstretched, sunbathing in the weak sunshine.
Watching the ducks splash. Chasing each other out of the water. Water droplets flying everywhere.
Coming in, out of the cold wind, settling in front of the log fire.
This is what I love about the outdoors.
Music: One Fine Day by Jason Shaw