Week ten of the general election campaign (it must be at least that, surely?) and the excitement and anticipation in North Devon, by which I mean everywhere north of the A30, is palpable. That is, if palpable means as limp as a discarded condom. So far the Lib Dems and the Tories have pushed one leaflet each through my letter box and then buggered off. No candidates have girded their loins enough to knock on the door and seek my vote, which is a bit of a pity because I have issues I wish to raise with them.
At least that is how I feel now, but possibly by the time the doorbell goes I'd just as soon get hold of the dog's collar and take her, snarling, with me to the door and then the candidates can leave. It works with the Jehovah's Witnesses and the funny bloke who tried to get me to take out a Sky TV subscription. None of these people know that despite the lunging and growling that the dog is doing all she really wants to do is sniff their crotches and present them with a rubber ball.
Anyway the election is sort of passing me by, but I am fully engaged with spring. Primroses, celandines, violets, blossom of all kinds, they're all putting on a big show for us which is far more impressive than the ridiculous charging around of the candidates. Add to that the birds singing their hearts out and, as ever, nature is doing what it does best - just getting on with things. I suppose that even includes the volcanic eruption in Iceland which has brought chaos to the nation's air travellers. I met some people walking their dog the other day, one of whom said of the volcano: "You can't beat nature." Indeed you can't, but volcanoes seem much more elemental than birds tweeting in the hedgerows. Lava spewing out of the ground is a direct reminder of our links to the formation of the solar system and there's little enough that our politicians have to say about that. By the way, that wasn't one of the issues I was going to raise with any candidate that called at my home, but maybe I will now.
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