Is there anyone who fails to smile when watching newly hatched chicks? They're so fragile, so tiny, yet bravely scoot across dark lakes swarming with huge fish, or waddle determinedly after their parents through long grasses threaded with fox runs and rat holes. Or, like the little gosling in the photo above, amble contentedly on the mossy bank in full view of a murderous heron.   The two parent geese were keeping a sharp eye out, helped by a large white goose which seemed to be behaving like a visiting aunt who, not entirely approving of the parents' skills, did her best to shepherd the two little goslings closer to safety. (You can only see one gosling in this photo, and the parent birds were quacking at the other youngster which had wandered too far. Aunt Goose was having none of it, and was photographed mid-march in readiness to gently usher it closer once more).   If you peer through the tangled branches in the photo above, you can see a nest filled

Estuary Moon by Adele Cosgrove-Bray; watercolour; 2018. I've been busy decorating my art studio, stripping off old wallpaper, mending dents and holes with Polyfiller, (one and a half tubes' worth!), and then climbing up and down an ancient step-ladder in order to paint the walls with three layers of plain, pristine white. The job is not quite finished; one small wall needs a final coat of paint and its skirting board doing with white gloss, and the door frame needs white gloss too, but the end is in sight. Photos to follow once it's completely done! I've also been pulling out armfuls of forget-me-nots from our garden. There are supposed to be 74 official species of forget-me-nots, some of which are very pretty. Unfortunately, we're lumbered with horrible hairy things which self-seed prolifically and swamp all the other flowers and, once they've bloomed, flop over, turn brown and go brittle. Pull them out then and the spiny hairs cause a nasty rash.