After the heatwave came the rain. But it won’t be here long, the weather forecasters say. We could be in for a flaming June.
The farmers are busy in the fields, silaging. Great big tractors, their trailers laden high with cut grass, have been rumbling through the lanes, swaying like great beasts advancing across the countryside.
Hills echo with the distant humming of farm machinery. Headlamps light up the darkness as farm labourers work through the night.
The bluebells and wild garlic are almost over now, their place taken by towering nettles and cow parsley, which was always called gypsy lace in my Somerset family. There are solitary violets peeking up through verges, making a brave but useless attempt to be seen by passers-by.
Crisp packets, a single gardening glove and a child’s hot water bottle are among the detritus littering the edges of the roadside.
I’ve been out and about with my mobile phone over the past few weeks, playing with the camera and experimenting with Instagram. The results are nowhere near as good as Nathalie’s pictures, but they do tell a story.