A day when the wonderful watercolourist and her patient husband arrived at the garden, as dependable as the House Martins and just as welcome.
A day when a fledgling blue tit, who hadn’t yet learnt about the solidity of windows, needed rescuing from the potting shed. I caught it in a towel, untangled it from a web (the spider was a little shocked after rushing out to find such a large captor in his net) and released it a little wiser but in full health.
A day to share the next six strawberries with friends.
A day to pick sweet peas and the first cucumbers.
A day that battling the sticky weed didn’t seem so bad.
A day when the green woodpecker and thrush were bold and beautiful.
A day when I understood why the ants wanted to spray formic acid at me.
A day when the ill-advised folk staying at The Mill on the Bay didn’t start playing their Acid House at full tempo until at least 3.00pm.
All in all it was a lovely day.