Dog rose

It pays to venture out early on a sun-filled Sunday in early summer. Just me, the sun and nature in all her glory.   Destination: the river path. No-one else abroad and abundant waves of birdsong, near and far, call and response.  Luxuriant vegetation, waist high grasses of all kinds, brambles, goosegrass, thistles, dog roses (a favourite).  The soft murmur of the river, quiet and peaceful now.  For the first time I feel a hint of what I was able to do five years ago, how much I used to love this kind of solitary rural meandering - and nurture a sense that this is gradually being restored.  I feel a timid, anxious mixture of hope and gratitude.