In Spring-time, in Spring-time ...

Our choir is currently working on a setting by John Rutter of Shakespeare's It was a lover and his lass - the kind of music that seeps into your subconscious and surfaces as a maddening earworm. This afternoon I was assailed by the bit where we sing, cheerfully, "In Spring-time, in Spring-time, the only pretty ring-time ..." as we marched through the wintry landscape pictured here, on the old road between Puck's Glen and Benmore. There was a slightly solid rain falling, and the temperature on the car when we left it read 3ºC.

The one consolation was the absence of wind. And I won't need to water my new plants tonight ...