1. The smell of woods after it's been raining.
2. Spotting six-pointed stars moulded on the drainpipes at the Church of King Charles the Martyr.
3. Lark Rise to Candleford. Flora Thompson's autobiography is a very readable account of farm labourer's life at the end of the 19th century. My father introduced me to it when I was about seven or eight and it was probably one of the first 'proper' books I ever read. I'm not sure why he lent it to me - possibly because I'd been reading Laura Ingalls Wilder's Little House books - but I was very impressed by its thickness, and I remember being puzzled by a paragraph about a bull 'justifying his existence'. I loved the accounts of children's games, too.
Goldfinches, meeting and mackerel.
1. Goldfinches, painted like they're going to war, crowd the bird feeders. 2. We meet my cousin's partner for the first time, and it...
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1. An enormous fat bumble bee at work. She is so bulky that she can knock dead blossoms out of the way as she gets right in to the new jasmi...
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1. The shortest night and the longest day. I was up at Wellington Rocks with Anna, Paul and Jason. We couldn't see the sun through the m...
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1. I promised myself I wouldn't moan and grumble about it -- but I do. And as if by magic, a very kind friend produces the required blaz...