Up with the lark

I never thought of the origin of this phrase before, but today, I was outside at just after 6. The sky was a dark inky blue starting to lighten to a sullen grey in the south, and apart from the distant roar of the surf, all I could hear were two larks trilling over my head. I stood transfixed in the gloom, wondering how I had missed this enchanting phenomenon for so many years.

It wasn’t till 15 minutes later that the first song-thrush started the dawn chorus, and now they are all at it in the grey cloudy glimmer of twilight. And I am sitting in front of my computer, about to begin editing an urgent draft before the day shift begins. Today, that means waiting for the vet first thing to come and see the pony who has an abscess in his hoof, and then frantically glazing some pottery in time, I hope, for a pre-Easter delivery run.

But I’ll have that magical moment to savour all day…