The promise of sloes

The dew as diamondis did hing

Upon the tender twistis, and ying

Ouir-twinkling all the treis

And ay quair flowris flourischit faire

Thair suddainly I saw repaire

In swarmes, the sounding beis

Sum sweitly hes the hony socht *

The equinox has come and gone with the expected gales amounting to no more than a stiff breeze.

All the wind managed was to blow over the recycling bin and scatter its contents.  Could chase the empty plastic bottle down the street ever become the latest fitness fad ?

The weather, since day and night synchronised and we officially entered Spring, has been mild enough to tempt out the solitary bees and the hibernating butterflies; peacocks, red admirals and tortoiseshells have all been dancing in the sunlight.

 Chaffinch on Blackthorn

 The garden birds are in full song and the spring flowers are bursting forth.

Too much too soon?

Wood anemone and Butter-bur

The blackthorn bushes look like snow drifts with the white blossoms on the bare branches. A ready source of nectar for the hungry bees and the promise of a heavy crop of sloes for the gin infusers later in the year.

Red -tailed bee on Blackthorn

Beware!

The "blackthorn winter" can quickly follow when March must repay the "borrowed days" and rain, sleet and even snow can blight the blossoms and freeze the precocious, presumptive  flowering.

Maybe that's why sloes are such an erratic crop. Some years the bushes are laden, the next they have only the occasional berry.

Let's hope this year is one of plenty.

*The Cherrie and the Slae

Alexander Montgomery (c1545 - c1610)