Signs of Spring

Forget your rural cuckoos or your suburban daffodils. Here in the city we have out own reminders of the seasons’ advance (apart from the obvious one of no longer having to leave in the dark and come home in the dark). I’ve already written about the drumming of the urban woodpecker , and the migratory return of the first flip-flops of summer. But there are other little clues, too. The emergence from hibernation of the shy, retiring fair-weather bicycles clogging up the bike racks at the station. And – along with the stink of fox in front garden – the first really rank whiff of urine in the underpass at Vauxhall. Ah, the scents of summer.

Meanwhile – and this is entirely off topic, but I cannot resist – I noticed that the Guardian has got its dates muddled up again and is running the Army’s spoof April Fool recruiting advert four days late:

‘You’re lost with no GPS, map or compass,’ it says. ‘Where do you go from here?’

Um, Iran?


7 responses to “Signs of Spring

  1. Good old Guardian! Nice to know that some things never change.

    Have a good and happy Easter!

  2. I’m a city boy, but I have to day, I think I may prefer the country sides signs of summer!

  3. Enjoy your Easter, think of us railway people working…again.

  4. Pete, you may be right which is why I’m escaping the city for the joys of the country for the weekend

    TubeDude – indeed – and we are grateful that you guys do

  5. Scotland! You lucky thing! I figured it must be somewhere oop north when you mentioned GNER…

  6. hmm well, I can now report that in spring the countryside smells mainly of slurry and rotting sheep. Of course it smells like that the rest of the year too…

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