Spring is sprung

"Spring is sprung, the grass is riz, I wonders where the birdies is." That's how the rhyme goes, as I recall. For those interested in language, "spring" here is both a noun and a verb, with "sprung" as a participle of the verb "to spring". Ah, what a loss I must have been to the English teacher fraternity.

However, what we have here…

is an adjective. A spring line is a second mooring line running at an angle to the first, to stop the boat moving around either in the wind or when another boat goes by. Properly set up, it will hold your boat very steady, and at Skipton junction, Erin Mae needs something to do just that. Boats of all sorts pass all the time, and the edge of the path wobbles around as it curves away. Without that spring line, bangs and crunches are regular occurrences.

Meanwhile, one might be tempted to ask where spring went, let alone summer.

The sign above Morrison's door (I know they don't use an apostrophe, but what would the English teacher fraternity say?) is in stark contrast to the puddles all over the car park. We were only tempted out of Erin Mae's snug and dry interior when a modicum of blue sky appeared and, briefly, the rain appeared to have stopped. Ah, such deception. Spring may have sprung, but summer sprang away.

It may have something to do with 1st August being Yorkshire Day, when all true Yorkshire folk affirm their county's boundaries and their allegiance to it and to them. After all, you wouldn't want Yorkshire Day to be dry, would you!