April 14, 2002
Sunday. Rode my new bike down to the cricket field which has been mown short, the scent of the cut grass still in the air. The cricket square has yet to be touched. I leaned on the fence and looked across to the church, the churchyard gate and the pavilion. No buds yet on the ancient, cracked and pollarded willow in midfield, broadly at mid on, if you are batting with the church to your left. I wandered on, up the old private road and past the Victorian rectory towards the river. Plenty of celandines still out. Dry cracks in mud of the river bank. In winter the river flooded. One small moorhen (I think) today. Budding green everywhere. Watched a quietly purposeful series of churchgoers entering the south door of St Mary’s. This was our third Sunday not going to Kingsey on account of J’s cough. New bike splendid but I still love the old one, bits of which date back to 1979.