Lord Percy Percy: I've done it, my Lord! I've discovered how to turn things into gold! Pure gold!
Blackadder: You have? Show me!
Lord Percy Percy: [takes lid off melting pot, and Baldrick, Percy and Blackadder are bathed in a green glow] Behold!
Blackadder: Percy... it's green.
Lord Percy Percy: Yes, my Lord!
Blackadder: Now, look, Percy, I don't mean to be pedantic or anything, but the color of gold... is gold. That's why it's called gold. What YOU have discovered, if it has a name, is some... Green.
Lord Percy Percy: [removes lump of Green from pot] Oh, Edmund... can it be true? That I hold here, in my mortal hand, a nugget of purest Green?
Lord Percy Percy: Yes indeed, Percy, except that it's not really a nugget but more of a splat.
Blackadder: Yes, my Lord. A splat today, but tomorrow, who knows, or dares to dream...
Many of you will remember that sketch from Blackadder (which we've always enjoyed in this household.) Anyway, I have been reminded of it this week driving to and from town as the Green Fairy has waved her magical green wand along the sides of the A40 and miraculously bushes and trees have been brushed with green, from Hawthorn (always the earliest) and Hazel, to Elder and Honeysuckle and the tiniest tips of the Blackthorn amongst the starry white flowers. Half way up the hill on the far side of the valley is a statuesque and graceful Chestnut tree, already decked with leaves and poking out small candles of flowers, and the Sycamores are rushing to compete.
The hedgerow banks are a riot of early colour from Celendines, Cuckoo Pint, Windflowers, Ladies Smock, wild Daffodils, Primroses, Violets, Dogs Mercury, and with the big broad leaves of Ramsons (Wild Garlic) bursting through and covering swathes of ground yards round.
The last few winters have been difficult ones for us here, and it is with increasing joy that I welcome the following Spring.