Sights on the river

This evening, under a red sky, was the first time this year I have seen a great crested grebe on the river. Last Saturday, a warm and sunny afternoon, I walked in the meadows. There was a thorn tree about twenty feet high so covered in brilliant white flowers that it was like a vision of life its fucking self. I lay down flat among the fritillaries -- one of them a double header (don't recall seeing that before). Big bees bumped among the hanging purple and white bells of the fritillaries. Predictable, but inevitable, the line came: "merrily, merrily shall I live now, under the blossom that hangs on the bough". On an ash tree, about thirty yards away, a kestrel watched me.