My prediction that spring had arrived on Gozo appears to be holding true, the last few days have seen the most glorious sunshine. The bees are out, the lizards are out. My shorts are also out, much to the amusement no doubt of the resident Gozitans who remain resolutely encased in woolly jumpers and scarves, but 24 degrees is plenty warm enough for us English types to be exposing our knees. For too long it seems, due to the paucity of heating in my apartment, have I been wearing all my clothes at once, and it's a relief to shed them. 13 degrees outdoors in January is fine, 13 degrees indoors is less groovy.
![Picture](/uploads/2/4/9/4/24949670/9350343.jpg?484)
I climb the steep rise overlooking Xlendi Bay and find my way through the mass of spring blooms to a plateau which commands a view of the precipitous cliffs opposite. I sit in the sun and watch the doves launch themselves from the cliff edge, they swoop and soar seemingly for no better reason than for the sheer elemental joy of it, and return to the vertiginous ledges from whence they came.
![Picture](/uploads/2/4/9/4/24949670/2752919.jpg?463)
Sit long enough and things wander past. The vibrant, energetic lizards are out again after their winter downtime, unconcerned by my presence, but quick to dart away at any movement. An iridescent black beetle the size of my thumbnail strolls nonchalantly up one side of my boot and down the other, continuing on its way, as if I were just part of the landscape.
![Picture](/uploads/2/4/9/4/24949670/2516437.jpg?467)
The bees are here, I can hear the buzz from the emblazoned spheres of euphorbia as I pass. Common asphodel flowers here too, 3 foot tall spires of ghostly white, meadows of it at the gateway to the underworld are described in Homer's Odyssey. The Middle English variant of asphodel, 'affodill', is the derivation of the word 'daffodil'.