Collingham, Old bricks and Spring Flowers

The sun on Easter Day over the Midlands in England rises brightly. Roads, grass and branches shimmer with a frosty glaze that most will not see because today is for a welcome holiday, a drowsy head and late breakfast kind of day. They will miss the beauty of a day unfurling in a very average, yet stunning Collingham, a village in the heart of England, where life as a community has trundled by since at least the Middle Ages following a mention in the Doomsday book.

Spring approaches tentatively on our northern hemisphere island, the risk of low temperatures to the end of May frustrate or cruelly see off buds and blossom desperate to show themselves. Set against a traditional Nottinghamshire brick wall, these yellow tulips, a  single pink tulip and an emerging bluebell amidst a green carpet are the fanfare of Spring here.

This frosty view from an upstairs window shows Collingham as a neighbourhood of Nottingham where red fired bricks were mass produced in the 1500s. There are few stone buildings here except the Old Hall whose owners showed their wealth by bringing stone down the canal from hundreds of miles away.

Crumbling red brick walls with grey coping stones line the streets here. They echo to the early morning trudge of dog walkers and the staccato clip clop of horses keen to return to the warm hay basket post hack. They trot past the Grey Horse pub, now closed, but still proudly displaying its 18th painting of a fine equine: past the Forge, just a house now but its name a reminder of days and Easters gone by.