Looking out from our patio across to the May blossom which is better than ever this year, I couldn’t resist taking a photo. The hawthorn trees are laden with blossom so are more white than green. The hills in the distance made me think of that poem by AE Housman which starts
Into my heart an air that kills
From yon far country blows:
What are those blue remembered hills,
What spires, what farms are those?
No spires can be seen from our house and from this particular angle you can’t see any farms either, but the hills did look blue. It hasn’t been a sunny day, but the cloud cover added to the atmosphere.