The spring equinox, the move to BST and the imminence of Easter have all made me feel that spring is finally springing, in spite of the insane and unpredictable weather. I have daffodils in the garden and I am sure if I were to give it a little time and tlc I’d unearth more hidden floral treasures. Unfortunately, gardening has become something of a low priority of late even though in the back of my mind its memory reminds me of how wonderful and therapeutic it is as a daily practice.
Walking in the Yorkshire Sculpture Park yesterday, spring was making her presence felt everywhere, particularly in the warm current of air and the blue of the afternoon sky. Cooler air came off the water but it was fresh and welcome. The peace, beauty and delight of the place was a wonderful treat. It’s been a harsh winter, characterised by cold, illness and and a prevailing bleakness that has been interior as well as external. It felt yesterday as if that was lifting and I felt grateful for the shift.
On Saturday evening, we went to Lincoln Cathedral to hear Bach’s St Matthew Passion. While much of the music was compelling and many of the solos gripping and beautiful, the overall experience was disappointing. The music was muddy, as if lost in the vastness of the cathedral. As awe inspiring and marvellous as the cathedral is, it is cold and I am very tired of being cold.
On balance the cathedral of trees, sky and water, adorned with some truly sublime sculptural art proved more of a soulful and enriching experience yesterday. Walking with my best human, feeling nature wake up all around me was a sensory banquet. There are still shadows to conquer and dark corners which desperately need light. But the light is coming, little be little, day by day. And it is welcome indeed.