Sumer is a-cumen in
Lhud sing cuccu
Groweth sed and bloweth med
And spring be wid nu
They may not have had X-factor or Britains’s got talent, but the residents of Albion or Mercia or whatever probably had their own karaoke types. Why this particular fragment has survived to be reproduced in a hundred anthologies is a mystery. I expect it was taken on a Viking ship to Arabia where rain doth not rot nor mould corrupt. And yet from these feeble beginnings we ended up with Shakespeare!
Speaking of summer a-cumen in, we have had a spell of mend-your-bike-in-the-garden weather, and my bike duly obliged by getting a puncture after managing the whole wet and cold winter without one.
The dangling gloves are my insurance against a return of the cold. The structure in the background started life as a prototype climbing frame for kids, and is to end its life as a prototype climbing frame for runner beans. How hath the mighty fallen. It is a truncated icosahedron, variously also known as a Carbon-60 molecule, a Buckyball, a football, or to give it its grandest title, Buckminsterfullerene.
Now with my puncture mended I’m off for a ride in the late evening sun, Lhude sing cuccu.