Spring comes to an Exmoor village

Parracombe, Exmoor From the greenery sounds the first cuckoo, so I follow tradition and run about to ensure the luck of liveliness for the rest of the year

On the northern side of Exmoor luminous beech hedges thread upland fields and mark the onset of spring; regularly flailed banks flaunt drapes of fresh leaves, and sturdy trunks are topped with diaphanous crowns.

Swallows, which have just arrived, twitter and swoop around a sheltered farmstead; mud has dried up and dusty ways are edged in uncurling ferns, stunted bluebells, leafy foxgloves and a sprinkling of white stitchwort.