May Day.

 May Day.

Today promises to be the hottest day of the year so far. Britain will wake up to yet another day of glorious, unbroken sunshine, unprecedented warmth and heat and it almost feels we might be bracing ourselves for a magnificent summer of heatwaves, droughts, hosepipe bans, ice cream van jingles sweetening our ear drums and office workers wandering around streets and parks wearing their most casual shirts and suits.

But hold on we're still on the first day of May Day and it may be time to err on the side of caution because we're still in the infant days of only May, the spring robins and cuckoos are still at their most melodious, the tulips and daffodils are flaunting their prettiest finery and Easter is still recent history. It is at this point that we should all be looking for the first buds of optimism and hope that the rest of May, June and July will be a joyous parade of mouth watering picnics in the great outdoors, the familiar array of church village fetes and swimming lidos jammed solid with excitable children, teenagers and families. 

May Day normally provides the trade unions with their most perfect platform to march across Central London and sound off their grievances. Shortly, large flags and banners representing their company or organisation will express themselves vehemently in no uncertain terms. The local political party elections will polarise and unite the nation in a way that has now become, for some at least, a loathsome spectacle. 

In the middle of the countryside, hundreds of quaint market towns and vibrant villages will gather by the maypole, strap tiny bells to their ankles before indulging in the first maypole dances of the year. Men and women in jolly high spirits will spill out onto their blissfully idyllic country lanes and merrily cavort the day away with perhaps a bottle of lager and cider in their hands and love in their hearts. May has indeed come out to play, life is indeed at its most delightful, delectable, free spirited and the best feeling in the world. But then it always was and always will be.

Today we flung open our blinds and curtains and discovered handsome blue skies, deeply pleasant reminders of what could happen in June, July and August and not a cloud in that sky. The cynics will claim that this is too good to be true and that it can't possibly last because we've been here before with the English summer climate. The climate warming voices will be convinced that they were right all along and today's heatwave was somehow destined to take place on the first day of May. 

Even now the lunchtime workers will be spreading their blankets of food and drink over acres of thick green and gorgeous grass, wiping the sweat from hard pressed and fraught foreheads, worrying about the cost of living crisis perhaps. But then they're relieved to just be among the stunning cherry blossom on the trees and the mellifluous birds serenading us with a constant rendition of their favourite tweets and songs. It is England enjoying the freedoms and luxuries of everyday living.

Next Thursday of course England will have even more genuine reasons to be grateful, humble and blessed. On the 8th of May, the world will mark the 80th anniversary of the end of the Second World War when the agonising burdens of pain, suffering and trauma threatened our liberty and rendered life unbearable. Six years of war, tragedy and heartache brought death and devastation to not only England but the whole world. London was reduced to a broken, charred ruin, ravaged and savaged by Adolf Hitler's terrible and tyrannical murder machine. At the time it was thought England would bounce back and make a most miraculous recovery because we were renowned for our resilience.

And yet 80 years after the most horrendous conflict of all time, our generation will be bowing our heads with the utmost reverence. We are now the grandchildren who can barely grasp the ugly magnitude of what happened from 1939 to 1949. The archive footage and documentary evidence still leaves you cold and disgusted. You can still hear the buzz bombs, the V2 rockets, the fire bombed houses in their thousands, the burning buildings, the East End of London blitzed and yet undaunted and the morale of the nation seemingly at its lowest. And yet not. The bulldog spirit remained intact. 

But of course today on this first day of May, it's time to look out across those placid and peaceful cornfields, the majestic meadows, babbling brooks, resounding rivers rippling across gently waving Weeping Willows, beautiful rosebeds  in perfect shades of pink, yellow, red and purple. It is time to look out across wide, hugely expansive fields of the most astounding beauty all the while absorbing the sounds of dramatic, cascading waterfalls, grazing sheep and similarly deep thinking, contemplative cows.

It is time to look forward to another cricket and tennis season and welcome both sports with radiant smiles and an invigorating relish. Close your eyes and ears and you can now visualise the village green game of Sunday cricket where men or women now strap their pads to their ankles, stretch every limb in their body, squat on their haunches and wave their solid, varnished bat resolutely. Then they clatter down the pavilion steps for another day at the crease in front of three or four inquisitive farmers, a couple of blacksmiths and a smattering of folk from the local butchers, bakers and post office.

Suddenly the crack of red ball on the willow of the bat sounds like the first bottle of beer or cider being popped triumphantly next to a timber beamed pub called the Royal Oak. Then there is the gentle applause from the boundary trickling across the ground rather like the stream and tributary next to third man. An umpire stands patiently waiting for the first ball of the day rather like a man waiting for the 9.30 train to arrive from a distant London railway station. He flicks a coin, pulls a pencil from his pocket and the world has never been happier. Oh and before I forget our beautiful grandson Arthur and his baby sister Rosie will be here for the loveliest family party and of course the sun will shine. Have a great May Day everybody.