A day like this, with sky the colour of Aphrodite's eyes and birdsong in the air, is not a day to be sitting inside. And I had no intention of doing so, days like this are too precious to waste.
So I got the radio on, and headed through a cemetery alive with bluebells, and forget me nots, and a few wood anemone too. My new running shoes felt good, my lungs felt clear, and every dog I ran past had a smile on its face for a change, rather than snapping at my ankles.
I ran for 70 minutes around a cricket match, much to the amusement of the players, and noted the house martins flying over deep sqaure leg, and the pied wagtail fielding at long on. The pavilion has a tit of some kind nesting in a hole in the wooden wall, and white butterflies flitted about.
Eventually I headed down the cycle path, past robins, dunnocks, long tailed tits and even the rare sight of a greenfinch. On Clay Lane park, instead of a buzzard, a remote control glider was soaring way above.
On the river, folk were enjoying the beer festival, and I was enjoying the prospect of getting home after a two hour plus run. But I wasn't done with the day yet, an hour later I was cycling out to Cotham Flash Paddocks, where the yellow wagtails were gone, but there were a lot of noisy lapwings with their bizaree swannee whistle calls. And a brown hare nibbling a farmer's crops.
I loved it, just loved it.