Spring has sprung, but it’s a dry and chilly one

WHATEVER happened to April showers? The heavens will probably open now I have written this, but it’s like a dustbowl around here at the moment.

It doesn’t help that some of the local farmers have switched back to spring drilling this year – which is said to be better for ground-nesting birds like the skylark because they have a chance to lay eggs and rear chicks in the cereal crop before it gets too high.

Nevertheless, the tractor pulling the drill up and back across the big field behind my house the other day kicked up a dust storm like something out of the Sahara. The sky turned briefly brown, partially blocking out the sun.

Elsewhere, most plant life – including the autumn-sown crops – seems to be doing OK, despite the lack of water. But it won’t be long before the effects of the dry spell start to be felt and plenty of farmers will be looking anxiously at the sky.

Wet weather earlier in the spring seems to have got the grass away fairly healthily and the tractors pulling silage trailers are buzzing around the lanes at the moment.

There are benefits for dog walkers in the dry, however. No muddy paws – although a walk through long dewy grass followed by a trot across the just-drilled field – sticking closely to the footpath, of course – does tend to cover a spaniel’s hairy lower legs with a fine coating of sticky dust, just damp enough to dry off and fall on to the carpet and furniture once we get home. The ground away from the cultivated fields is rock-hard, though, and cracking.

And with a keen wind it has been cold for late April, despite the sunshine, delaying the blossom on many trees, including the apples in our little orchard.

I have been watching the slowlyforming flowers these past few days in case a frost should strike. Nothing reduces the apple crop worse than a late frost; I can sympathise with those vineyard owners all over Europe who fear frost in spring almost as much as hail in September – it can be commercial suicide for a vineyard to lose its crop of grapes before they are even formed. For me, it just means a bit less apple sauce in the freezer and fewer apples to press to try to make some halfway drinkable cider.

Anyway, the seasons are turning, even if a little later than usual. I’ve given up on hearing the cuckoo in this part of South Devon, but still hopeful our usual squadron of swallows, martins and swifts will show up soon – nothing much spotted so far but perhaps things will warm up a bit – and we’ll get some rain – to start things really moving.