Eyes to the sky, for me, in April. Will I recognise them? Of course I will! The first glimpse of that swirling, whirling flight, interweaving, drawing tiny threads of vapour trails across the sky.  The swallows are coming back! I saw my first swallow of 2025 while eating simnel cake on a bench in Corbridge on April 11th. They were high above the river, maybe 7 or so, swooshing and chattering in the sunshine. I felt an instant lightness of being that only the swallows returning brings.  

A friend shared a thought about there being a comfort in the reliability of nothing being permanent – the only thing we can know is that the season will continue to change and shift and the earth will continue to turn.

April feels like a series of nice surprises.  I know it all happened last year and the year before and the year before that – the trees laden with pink blossom, seedlings pushing through soil, tadpoles, fat bees, oceans of dandelions – but somehow I forget just how beautiful the spring sequence really is.  Rediscovering the springtime surprises with young children is an extra layer of joy – Trix can’t remember bright yellow rapeseed fields, or pink blossom petals falling like raindrops in the breeze. She’s experiencing warmth on your face from the sun, while pottering in the garden and pushing seeds into soil, as though for the first time.  I’m really trying to take the time to stop and marvel at everything with her. 

The clock change has done the dirty on us, though. It doesn’t matter how dark I make the room, Trix seems to know on an animalistic, cellular level that outside it is light, and her day was not done. Bedtime is creeping later and later. She wakes so often in the night.  My wild-cat toddler cannot be tamed by the social construct of time. Thank goodness for our sleepy boy who gives in to that gorgeous tiredness that comes from a day spent running and digging and sunning and climbing and whacking things.

April is finishing up in a bit of a whirl of busyness.  I’m deep in preparations for Art at Ancrum – a local, free arts event this coming bank holiday weekend.  It’s an event I did for several years before I had the kiddos.  It takes place in a lovely little village here in the Scottish Borders – a village called Ancrum – and all sorts of artists and makers take up spaces in houses and halls for a three day art event.  There’s going to be a little bookshop, coffee and cake, events for kids, and there’s lovely walks round and near the village. I’m very much looking forward to being back – although I’m feeling a bit rusty in my preparations! I’m going to be exhibiting, alongside textile artist Olive Rowell, in a gorgeous house up a lane behind the church (worth the short walk, I promise). We are Venue 13, Balmar House. The event runs Saturday 3rd to Monday 5th May, 10am – 5pm.

Alongside that, we’ve launched a third attempt at potty training, and excitement is building for a 6th and 43rd birthday (Piglet & Ross) the weekend after that.  The garden wants attention; the allotment is starting to fill up; there’s more tidying to do in the house than I can face.  The quietness of winter is over, it’s getting spring-busy.

Here’s all my April sketchbook pages: