It's been nearly four weeks since we started Chasing Spring, and we've covered about half the country already, meeting a motley collection of colourful characters along the way.
One of the things I love about being a journalist is that it gives you access to people you would never otherwise have an excuse or reason to talk to. While some of the interviews for Chasing Spring have been planned well in advance (for example, yesterday's visit to BTCV's Skelton Grange centre in Leeds, which is a great model for environmental projects involving children) others come about following a chance meeting or an accidental discovery.
As we were cycling from Leeds to Harrogate today, we passed a Sikh temple with gold domes resplendent in the sunshine and carrying banners saying "Happy Vaisakhi". I braked hard. Matt crashed into me. "What's Vaisakhi?" I asked, "and does it have anything to do with spring?" A quick Google later, I decided it was worth investigating.
Which is how I found myself barefoot in the ladies' toilets of a Sikh temple arranging a headscarf in a peasants' knot, and then having a theological discussion with an elderly Sikh man. While we didn't film there, he suggested we go to a temple next week when the actual Vaisakhi celebration takes place, and where we will hopefully be welcomed. Which is exactly what I intend to do.
We then made our way to Harlow Carr in Harrogate (which is, incidentally, on top of a large hill) where one of the gardeners spoke lovingly of the springtime display on show, describing the deliberate arrangement of colours and textures of plants, how they played off against each other and how they were organised to shine and delight in every season.
I'm now safely ensconced at the house of an old friend, exploiting her washing machine and fabulous cooking...and getting carried away by the sound of her husband playing Beethoven on the piano...
...and the tension of the previous four weeks, which I hadn't even realised had wrapped itself around me, is unravelling uncoiling and unfurling. I've been so completely focused on Chasing Spring, which has completely dominated my thoughts over the past few months, that I haven't had much chance to actually enjoy the experience. I'm constantly tapping away on a cramped iphone screen (which cramps my thoughts as well), worrying about planning the rest of the route and organising interviews, that in some way I've built a wall between myself and the riotously anarchic joy that spring is and should be.
So tomorrow, whatever the weather, I will sit in the green grass and watch the shadows of the clouds. I will listen to the bees, find out where the ladybirds go and stick my nose into a daffodil; after all, how can I write about the pageant of spring if I'm not meeting its main characters?
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