This year, the oak leaves were out well before the ash. According to the saw: “Oak before ash, in for a splash – ash before oak, in for a soak”.

Left: oak; right: ash

So, what actually happened? We had 10 days of clear warm sunny weather, followed by a torrential downpour – presumably a soak.

The trouble with such predictions is that they are very imprecise, and can often be interpreted in a way that suits the interpreter! Five days after I noticed the different budding of the trees, it would have been true – today, it isn’t.

I think there may be a germ of truth in the saying. Ash is shallow-rooted, and oak has a taproot. So, oaks will generally fare better in dry periods than ash. But that isn’t the same as day-to-day weather prediction.

A while ago, I mentioned living in a nanny state - which could also be called "Signs of the times", I suppose.

Danger! Warning! Caution! Beware! Pooh!

Today, we went for an early morning walk to visit the new landslip at Lyme - I wanted a photo for a geology page on my main web site. The local news mentioned that "the beach has been cordoned off" - and by gum, so it has. I have outlined the slip in yellow: it is a good 10 minutes slog across rocks and mud and groynes to get to it, so personally, I feel the swathes of Police "do not cross" tape and these officious yellow signs are just a little over the top.

Here is a closer view - well into the danger zone. The fallen trees teetering at the top of the fall are probably about 15-20m high, to give you an idea of the scale:

Some of the slabs of rock at the foot of the slip are taller than I am, and must weigh many tonnes:

- so I didn't get too close!

At last, the hawthorn is flowering. For me, a still sunny afternoon, listening to flies buzzing, wood pigeons cooing, and smelling the heavy perfume of the may tree is the absolute essence of early summer - something to savour and dream about in the depths of winter.

The old saw "Ne'er cast a clout till May be out" has debatable meaning: should be keep our woollies on till the end of the month, or till the blossom appears? This year, I tend to the latter, though it's not always the case.

We hear lots of complaints about "coming over here and taking our houses". I wonder if resident UK birds think the same of summer migrants?

At last, we have some swallows zooming about twittering in the garden (though I saw the first one over a month ago). There was one perched on top of the kitchen dresser this morning after I'd left the back door open: quite a palaver catching it and releasing it into the garden!

My husband has designed our shed so we can open a panel in the eaves for the summer. This makes the high-up dark opening that they seem to love. Inside, there are some shelves for their nests. A pair are already investigating, so I hope we have a nest soon.

We are almost at the end of bluebell season here: the leaves are starting to flatten (which gives a good view of the flowers), and soon the best will be over.

Today, I went to the Spittles - a strangely named area of undercliff west of Lyme Regis. You can follow part of the old road to Charmouth which collapsed in the 1920s into the sea: there are still fragments of tarmac and the foundations of houses, being overwhelmed by trees.

I took the camera of course: I used the telephoto to try and convey some of the blue confusion here:

and a wider angle to get a sharper image of some individual blooms:

Interesting how the colour balance changes from shot to shot: I really ought to set it manually.

I thought it was about time to change my banner image, so I chose this panorama of my own village, taken early this morning. There are a few oddities in the light where the clouds chased across as I was assembling the images, but it's not too bad, and shows the pretty spring countryside quite nicely.

Happy May Day, everyone.