...is important, even in fiction. I am currently reading a review copy of a book by a very well-known author, which is well-written, and I'm enjoying it. But he begins by describing his central characters's return to England from France in the spring, and what a spring! There is hawthorn blossom, masses of wild pink and white cherry blossom, bluebells, primroses, rhododendrons, little ducklings and returning swallows, all at the same time. Had he done just a little research (or lived in the country), he might have discovered that these things don't all come out at once; that spring is staggered (thank heavens) and things bloom and breed at different times. And I have never seen (or heard of) pink wild cherry blossom. Think Houseman:
"Loveliest of trees, the cherry now
Is hung with snow along the bow..."
Maybe none of this really matters, but I kept stopping and thinking..."hang on. Surely that isn't right?" and it's very distracting. I just hope the same doesn't happen with autumn (if we get that far)...