Lately, I have been writing a story. It’s the kind that takes a long time to make short.
Two strong characters each want their version of the story to be heard. I listened to both, and wrote about them, and decided to show one side – but you will understand that there’s a competing point of view.
I’ve been getting to work right after an early walk. But since I can’t share the story here (if you want to read it, please let me know) here are some photos, all taken in May, showing the same hill: in detail, in far-ranging views and from two sides.

Burgeoning: but the ash trees are very late; there’s one not quite out yet on the giant’s upper lip.

Bluebells in the woodland and along paths have been a sight to behold all month.



From the top of the hill facing west – a view towards Colmer’s over cow parsley.

From the top facing south – sometimes the sea is hidden by mist, sometimes it jumps out with an unexpected shade of blue.

The hill from the far side. Bridport is hidden behind it.

Back up the hill and into the woods.
I can’t share the birdsong (or the smells of damp earth, nettles and badger) but we listen out and sometimes see one of our favourites: like the greenfinch. This is what the sound of a greenfinch looks like, courtesy of the wonderful BirdNET app. You can hear it and see it on this YouTube link.

Was it the correct species? Yes – we saw it. And so we did our bit for citizen science.

Dandelion seed head glistening in the rain.

Ferns unfurl and make me think of walking sticks, shepherd’s crooks and seahorses.

Guelder rose is just coming into full flower. But the elder is way behind. This time last year, we were drinking elderflower tea.

In mid-May the beech leaves on the shady side seemed so light and fresh, like butterfly wings too soft yet for flight.

There was a beautiful bank of primroses and violets – no photo of that for May as someone strimmed most of it. Disappointing. But they will probably recover. And there are other lovely things, like this branch of May blossom.

Not pretty but useful: some of us have had our second vaccine and are starting to feel a little less anxious about C19, though perhaps not ready to push through crowds of people.
Now May be out, the blossom and the month. It’s time to cast a clout but perhaps not to cast off all caution.
Enjoy the end of May!
Wonderful post, Maria, with such lovely photos and birdsong! That first picture looks like something out of a movie:) Your story sounds very intriguing. I would love to read it, if possible. I believe that you have my email address, but if not, just let me know!
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Thanks very much, Becky. I have sent a copy of that story to you. Forgot to say if you have any trouble with a pdf I can send it in another version. Thank you for wanting to read it too!
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Looking forward to reading your story, Maria. Thanks!
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Wonderfully informative post, Maria. Your local walks are always seasonally beautiful. I learned (I think) that May is Hawthorn blossom, clout is medieval clothing and how to identify birdsong. Northern hemisphere birds are more melodious than our southern varieties 🙂 and lastly the beautiful curling fern similar to our rainforest ferns.
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Yes though the saying ‘Cast ne’er a clout ‘fore May be out’ is still in use – at least by some of us oldies. It’s just a precaution as our springtimes can go from hot to chilly in hours if not days. My mum always said though that she took it that the saying applied to the hawthorn blossom, which comes out sooner than the arrival of the end of the month of May. Am glad you liked the post, Gretchen!
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