72 micro-seasons 17

Janey...

A lone Welsh poppy, yellow, thin-as-paper petals, braves the April air

Helen...

Gardening. Nesting blackbird hops and skitters, inches close, fixes me with her quick yellow eye.

Beverley...

Lilacs in full colour and scent, each conical bloom a cluster of four-petalled sweetness liberated from the lush green top-notes of Spring.

Kit...

Milky Solway morning -

herring gulls gab 

on shingle spit -

vapour trails 

across the pale high blue

Jane...

The hills are carpeted in copper - the faded rust of last year's broken bracken. All around, a riot of white blackthorn blossom.

72 micro-seasons 16

Janey...

Sunlight on silver-

blue-glass sea,

Shimmering spring

Kit...

where the Helm

hitches herself to the fell -

this year's lapwing chicks

sit tight

on last year's bracken clumps

Jane...

Daffodil leaves hold their tall curve, still proud, as the golden trumpets fade.

Beverley...

Everything shivers. The water in the butts, the swollen hedge of privet, the pigeons paired and preening on the fence edge.

Helen...

Greenness, greedy and everywhere: gold grey lemon turquoise lime mint and all the colours we have not yet named.

72 micro-seasons 15

Janey...

April 

An icy blast reminds the shivering lilac buds

Helen...

Suddenly - hedges

brindled brown and green. Blackthorn

a scatter of white.

Beverley...

Cow Parsley bonnets have pushed their way up fearlessly through new nettles and are bobbing in the wind.

72 micro-seasons 14

Janey

Ferns unfurling in the chancey slant of sunlight, storm-petals clog the drains

Helen

Roads are dark slicks of river under sullen sky.

Beverley 

Three bare patches in the field spring to life: hares cavorting among the wheat shoots.

72 micro-seasons 13

Janey...

Stonechat,

the first of the year,

its voice like white pebbles in my pocket

Beverley...

The never-ending wind blows the skylarks from view but the fields remain awash with their song.

Helen...

Warm winds, infant seedlings. Tips on my acers like hundreds of tiny hands.

72 micro-seasons 12

Janey

Nant yr Arian...

Silence -

only the kite hangs watchful in the silver-blue sky

Helen

Easter sun slanting

through branches still mainly bare -

sharp shadows appear.

Beverley

Not even the daisies over first mown grass will open their faces to this grey day.