Each year, without fail, I regret that I didn't pay more attention to the month of April. Just before the plants and trees have fully burst out in May, we have this discrete month that marks the end of the cold period and during which many of the most interesting transformations take place.
And each year, I admire the dandelion clocks as if I'd never noticed them before, and look at the dandelions themselves in a different light. Once you remove the 'weed' label, their infamous resilience is a source of admiration too , as is their jaunty cheerfulness as one of the first flowers of spring.
I don't actually like the colour yellow, but it seems to be bursting out everywhere in nature, in defiance of the sober colours of winter, and the subtler ones of spring too. Hopefully, it will grow on me, just as it seems to grow, or invade, everywhere else...
Lawless dandelions seem to stake their claim over every space, to the point that they form bands of yellow that run parallel to the legitimate vegetation in the vineyards here.
This bold, brazen yellow ultimately gives rise to landscapes of nebulous forms...
These contrast the stark outlines of the vines - all of which looks striking in the late afternoon light...
And of course, which runs alongside the vast expanses of yellow from other crops - in this case colza...
Not only is this breathtaking to see, rolling out over the landscape, it also perfumes the air with a very delicate scent. Unfortunately this isn't the only air-borne substance at the moment - the allergies have been truly
atrocious this year - but I'm trying not to let that spoil this yellow-fest!
