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Oh, what a joy – the sun’s appeared!

Gone is the grey and the murk. It’s been grim over winter, so dank and so dark, so slippy and slimy; not a perk.

Our thoughts brighten up and smiles appear at the thought of a walk in the park, but demented legs have got slower and wobbly with less to go out for, no sun to enjoy.

Well! Something has to be done!

So: throw the ball, catch and reply, march ten steps in the chair, up and down, up and down; one day we’ll be out in the Spring.

Remember, remember, no, not the fifth of November, the seat that is under the trees! It’s too many steps but soon we’ll be there feeling the Spring sunshine.

Look, the green crocus spikes are beginning to show and the flowers will soon be around.

So keep up the steps and we’ll do our best to remember, remember it’s Spring.

Oh, it’s worth the steps, and worth the work and encouraged by cleaning the windows!

Good Lord, we can see, we can really see, the daffodils coming one by one. The leaves are beginning to flutter – the breeze in the Spring is delightful and mild. It encourages us to keep up the steps, and waggle the legs and shake the arms and nod the head to get fitter and fitter and fitter and fitter to welcome the Spring.

Are we ready? Our legs, are they steady? We’ve got coats at the ready, but needed or not we’ll be there. We may struggle and wobble, forget where we are, or why we have had all this fun.

But it’s Spring and there’s sun. We’ll forget all the showers and think only of sun. That’s the reason we’ve been getting all fit – to get out to that bench where the crocuses grow and cyclamen are shining bright pink.

It’s worth all the work, dementia or none, to be out in the Spring with the flowers, the warmth and the sun.

So, legs with less wobble and holding on tight to the arms of another, demented or not we are off to sit on the seat.

Surrounded by birches, bark whiter than snow, leaves all a-shudder, with the buzz of the bees on catkins a-dangling, we’ve made it to Spring once again. We’re alive and we’re kicking, well almost, but nearly and inside we feel just the same as we did in years past under similar trees, with beautiful flowers and hearts no more happy than now.

Winner of the Dementia and Spring category of the 2025 Trent Dementia blog competition