April 6th 2022
When I get up it is dark. The clocks have gone forward and now dawn is much earlier. I have to be awake at about 5 as dawn is at around twenty past six. I go out into the garden to find some flowers to take to Felix. It is cold and rainy. I pick some branches from the Forsythia bush which is covered in yellow blooms, and then cut some sprigs of Rosemary. Back in the house, I tie them together in a posy with twine.
At the Green Hill the wind is howling across the car park and the rain is horizontal. Within minutes I am soaked. In the burial meadow, the wind is less strong. The sky is full of heavy grey clouds, and the river below is shrouded in mist.
I try and see where the sun is rising, but it is just not visible, not even as a glow. I am wondering if it has moved to its summer position yet, to the left of my field of vision.
When I reach Felix, I am overjoyed to see a single snakes head fritillary growing in the middle of his grave. This gives me an inordinate amount of delight. My sister-in-law Kate gave me some of these flowers which I planted here a few years ago. The last few years there have been no sign of them. But now, one has reappeared. It gives me such comfort.
The Green Hill 