It had been a braw week in the wild west Highlands of Scotland, albeit a wee bit on the chilly side,

It had been a braw week in the wild west Highlands of Scotland, albeit a wee bit on the chilly side, and Algy and his little green dragon friend had made the most of the unusually fine spring sunshine, for the weather ahead did not look so good… in fact the forecast suggested that it was about to start raining, and would then continue non-stop, in dense Scotch mist, until Wednesday of next week…

But for the moment all was bright and beautiful, and even tolerably warm at ground level, which caused the little green dragon to emit a happy orange glow as he chatted with Algy among the pretty spring flowers. As Algy looked at the primroses around them, he remembered an odd little poem by William Wordsworth, and - wondering whether his funny wee friend had ever eaten strawberries - he anticipated what he fervently hoped would be a bountiful strawberry harvest in months to come, even though he had observed that the strawberry plants in his assistants’ garden were not even thinking about flowering just yet…

Pull the primrose, sister Anne!
Pull as many as you can.
–Here are daisies, take your fill;
Pansies, and the cuckoo-flower:
Of the lofty daffodil
Make your bed, or make your bower;
Fill your lap, and fill your bosom;
Only spare the strawberry-blossom!

Primroses, the Spring may love them–
Summer knows but little of them:
Violets, a barren kind,
Withered on the ground must lie;
Daisies leave no fruit behind
When the pretty flowerets die;
Pluck them, and another year
As many will be blowing here.

God has given a kindlier power
To the favoured strawberry-flower.
Hither soon as spring is fled
You and Charles and I will walk;
Lurking berries, ripe and red,
Then will hang on every stalk,
Each within its leafy bower;
And for that promise spare the flower!

[Algy is quoting most of the poem Foresight by the 19th century English poet William Wordsworth.]