I woke up on Tuesday morning to such sparkling blue sky and such glorious sun that by 7.15 I was out on the heath caught by the light filtering through the new young leaves.
Down on Kenwood lake a lone goose sailed slowly towards me, contemplated the shore, turned around and then stopped to meditate.
Further up the slope, Henry Moore’s reclining couple basked in the sun’s warming rays…
…while in the grove behind them the birds were in full voice.
But even that early morning sun could not penetrate this sweeping umbrella of branches on the ridge above Kenwood.
Kenwood breaks into flower