Y Tywyddiadur

Surrey [30 Mai ar frig yr erthygl]

The morning sun was yet red on the horizon and mist hung above the lower meadows when the first mowing of grass began. Scent came across the lane fresher and sweeter than the odour from the thorns. It was a small field, hand-mown; swathes were heavy, deadening the sweep of scythes, but tall wild parsley, oat-grass spiked almost like corn, and thicker fescue all lay low, while the larks went up singing. In the wood hard by other birds started together, finches on the lower branches, throstles on the high boughs; a jay cluttered where the grove is thick, a cuckoo called, then, showing as big as a hawk, flew to the other side. The air was so slight as not to sway even the light stems of birch trees; when a bird settled after flying the bough was set in motion like a swing, and there was so much flitting to and fro that the trees everywhere, even oaks in full leaf, were visibly alive. 

Earlier in the week sheep, coated as they were, lay in the shade of spreading beeches, or, nearer a hedge, great elms. Now shearing has begun, and they nibble with comfort across the field. Grasshoppers are in the meadow and chaffers on the sycamore leaves.

The cold, chill air yesterday [1 Mehefin 1920] morning had changed by evening to a warm, heavy atmosphere, which with an almost continuous rainfall during the night has again produced a further advance in our hay meadow. Nothing seems to daunt the cuckoo, rain or shine. At daybreak he awakened me by his continued call, and was within earshot more or less till the cows were coming in. This bird seems to have no fear of company, and was calling a few days ago from some loganberry supports within four yards of the house, and seems never far away from us.

Tall foxgloves rear their many-flowered stems, their lower purple bells full open, their slender tips drooped gracefully, weighed down with a wealth of promising buds. Buttercups, with many golden blossoms on their long, far-reaching stems, top the tall flowering meadow grass, more abundantly than in most years. It is summer indeed; growth has reached perfection…

Everywhere on the stems are small frothy masses, air-bubbles that do not burst, for the green larva within keeps up its supply of protective covering, a shelter alike from enemy birds and the parasites which cannot penetrate the foam. “Cuckoo-spit” the children call these bits of air-filled moisture, but the scientist says that they are the exudations of an homopteron – Aphrophora spumaria, a froghopper; both generic and specific name, derived respectively from the Greek and Latin, mean the same thing and refer to the habit.

Tall foxgloves rear their many-flowered stems, their lower purple bells full open, their slender tips drooped gracefully, weighed down with a wealth of promising buds. Buttercups, with many golden blossoms on their long, far-reaching stems, top the tall flowering meadow grass, more abundantly than in most years. It is summer indeed; growth has reached perfection…

Everywhere on the stems are small frothy masses, air-bubbles that do not burst, for the green larva within keeps up its supply of protective covering, a shelter alike from enemy birds and the parasites which cannot penetrate the foam. “Cuckoo-spit” the children call these bits of air-filled moisture, but the scientist says that they are the exudations of an homopteron – Aphrophora spumaria, a froghopper; both generic and specific name, derived respectively from the Greek and Latin, mean the same thing and refer to the habit.

May 2 House Martins reported on the Dulas river. I saw three swifts near Marle Hall, and also heard the cuckoo (was told it had been calling since 27th of April).