Cotton wool clouds, crickets and early.

1. Today, town is looking particularly lovely from the top of Mount Ephraim. Great cumulo nimbus clouds scatter sun and shade across the roofs and parks.

2. Crickets -- someone has wound the hillside up and it is hopping round in circles like a clockwork toy.

3. Nick comes in early and sees my computer face. We go for a walk. When we get home, everything is all right again.

Blessed cool, Prosecco and air aces.

1. The woods. The shady side of the street. Our flat. Very much welcome on a hot day.

2. She says: "Thanks for telling me this Prosecco is sweeter than Champagne. I wouldn't have tried it otherwise."

3. Daredevil swifts shriek over our hill. They fall, now skyward, now earthward. Always falling.

Bees, in the sun and compost bin.

1. Bees bob against the window. Bok. Bok. Bok.

2. At lunchtime, to stretch out my legs in the sun and read for a while.

3. On a hot day, a week before it will be emptied, the compost bin smells of conifer branches.

So below, drying out and work harder.

1. Spring flowers are fallen stars.

2. crick-crack crick crick-crack. Pine cones are opening in the hot bright air.

3. A crow watches the collared doves. A mean boss on a warm Friday afternoon.

Melting, out of my hands and the day I caught the train.

1. It is so hot that my bright red ice lolly is dripping down my hand.

2. Dropping a job application into the letter box -- after all that polishing and refining, what a relief to have it immutable and out of my hands.

3. I was disorganised and now I am going to miss my train -- but I run anyway, and find it's three minutes late.

Dress accordingly, work and spotlight.

1. Putting on warm weather clothes after a few chilly days.

2. I find a job ad that piques my interest -- it's part-time, and editorial, working on interesting subject matter for an amazing organisation.

3. Shade falls through the leaves in smudges and splotches. A brown butterfly sits for a moment on a splash of sunlight and is illuminated.

The drink, out of the sun and all together now.

1. My sunflower's leaves are hanging soft and sad like wet handkerchiefs. I dip a watering can into the cool, dark rainbarrel and take it a drink. An hour later, its leaves are proudly starched again.

2. The air is as hot as my skin and the sunlight is so bright that I have to work hard to decide what details are important. I like to step into an air conditioned shop; and to be given a free sample of a cool drink.

3. We spend the evening listening to Prom 45: The Ukelele Orchestra of Great Britain. It's very funny -- and the sound of the audience joining in with Beethoven's Ode to joy on 1,000 ukes was stirring, and somehow reassuring and unifying. Also, if you have a moment, read the reviews of the controversial Prom 25. One listener claims her ears were raped, and another was upset by whatever the pianist was doing inside the piano.

The report, a meeting and yellow dog.

1. I get a text message to say: 'All I'm hearing today is "Clare give me apple. Tree!"'.

2. He has seen my map and wants to know: "Are you going for a walk?" I show him where I'm planning to go, and his mother and sister tell me they've just seen an adder.

3. A labrador the colour of straw-dry grass bounds towards me on the path by the stream. I am taken aback by his enthusiasm and he pushes his wet, toothy muzzle into my hand. The lady hurrying behind him calls: 'Sorry, he's too friendly!'

Fruit, foxglove and a start.

My friend Chris, who was mentioned in the first 3BT post, is hoping for enough votes to make his cat Guido The Face of Wiskas. He really is a beautiful thing, and Chris is ridiculously fond of him, so your votes would make my day! You don't have to register -- it's just a click and you're away.

1. I go to grab my phone from my bag, and the box of strawberries sings out a perfumed breath.

2. A lone foxglove growing out of the cliff under Rock Cottage.

3. Starting to read a new book.

In the sun, here it comes and retro pulp.

1. On a hot day, I like to sit on the bench half way up the zig-zag path and watch people toiling up the hill.

2. While we are having our evening catch-up, a suitable title for one of my radio-plays-in-progress pops out of my mouth like an unexpected sneeze.

3. Nick produces another retro pulp film from his stash -- Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow -- a wonderful piece of art deco noir action involving giant robots rampaging through wartime New York and planes that turn into submarines.

Stay green, in the shade and sweets.

I've woken up my old blog Once Around the Park. 30-word accounts of a daily walk along the same route.

1. I like this time of year, when it is hot, but still green.

2. I am always afraid to put the shading into my pictures -- it's hard with portraits because the directional shading I'm so fond of looks like wrinkles, or sunburn. But when the teacher warns us that profile pictures can end up looking flat, I take a deep breath and give it a go. At the end of the class, he praises the depth of our portraits.

3. Sharing a box of mithai with Nick -- we're lucky enough to have a brilliant exotic supermarket in Tunbridge Wells (The Spice Store on Grosvenor Road), and a bite or two of an Indian sweet make a good change to our usual Jaffacakes.

Attention-seeking, the queue and getting rid.

1. I draw the curtain behind the monitor -- the bright sun makes it hard for me to work. But it still teases me for attention by projecting the pattern of the nets through the curtain.

2. We have to wait a while in the butchers -- but that's all right because it gives us time to decide exactly what we would like. His meat is laid out on antique china platters and dishes.

3. I need more space again. The stack of books in the hall is waist high by the time I've finished.

Cricket week, boys and the end of the day.

3BT has passed the quarter million hit mark yesterday, which was very pleasing. Thanks for your continued support.

And my cousin Amy texted recently to say that she'd seen an elderly couple in a shopping centre ballroom dancing to no music.

1. Nick shares some of his favourite cricket noises: the sound the scoreboard being updated; and the twack of the ball hitting the advertising hoardings.

2. A party of schoolboys had got bored of watching the real cricket, and started their own game using a plastic chair for a wicket, and shoes for bats.

3. Once supper is enjoyed and washed up, I like the hour when we sit down on the sofa and lean against each other.

Irises, aeronauts and a walk.

1. This garden is flying irises -- the blue of deep sea and the yellow of suns drawn in wax crayon.

2. The swifts are louder than the engine of the bus.

3. In the middle of the day, to walk under warm air ticking with crickets in a tangled field starred with buttercups.

Reset, watering and it's summer.

Anyone else for 3BT's fifth birthday party drinks at a pub in Tunbridge Wells? Drop me an email if you're coming.

1. After a sleep, the path seems clearer.

2. The sound of a watering can filling up.

3. It's summer because the sticky sash window in the bedroom opens fully.

No coat, the black cat and meat.

Over at Daily Mammal they are discussing My Family and Other Animals.

1. I leave the house without a coat.

2. A black cat shape has been cut out of the car park.

3. He's looking covetously at my pink lamb cutlets, but he's not having any.

Fire, living rough and staving off the inevitable.

1. Pictures of a fire in a derelict house. Carverns of lily orange flames and window frames in black silhouette draw my eye.

2. One of the reporters comes round with a sponsorship form. She's spending a week living as a homeless person in town. Her mind is whirring with ideas about surviving not so much the cold nights but the empty days.

3. Susan is wearing sandals with a large silver buckle: 'It's not autumn, because I'm wearing my sandals.'

Specks, hairy beast and ice ships.

Hen over at Domestic Hiss has given me a You Make My Day Award. I'm passing it on Rosey (see below for why).

1. Days when its sunny and tiny bits of lime tree flowers are flying around catching the light.

2. My birthday present arrives -- Rosey has commissioned a picture from The Daily Mammal -- a warthog to remind us of our trip to Africa. I'm so pleased and proud to own one of Jennifer's original pieces. Her 14-year plan to draw all the 5,000 (give or take) mammal species is an endeavour that I admire very much.

3. Nick has a small stack of military history magazines to pass on to Andy. 'Look, there are two articles on pykrete,' says Nick, surprised that such an obscure and wonderful subject could come up in two different magazines dated a decade apart. When Andy arrives, we proudly tell him about Habakkuk, the proposed aircraft carrier made of pykrete -- a mixture of ice and sawdust. I imagine that ships and islands of ice dot the oceans in the same reality where airship is the only civilised way to travel long distances.

Colours of fruit, stuck inside and summer hours.

1. Red strawberries and yellow nectarines for breakfast.

2. Columns of rain line the view from my window. I am so glad that I don't have to go out in it.

3. It is minutes to nine and still light enough for a turn around the park.

On the wind, conveyance and wild mint.

1. In the station car park, the wind scutters a leafy willow branch across the ground, whirls the tarmac smell into our faces and whisks clouds into mares' tails high above us.

2. New car smell, a door that closes firmly behind me with almost no effort, and firm new car seats.

3. We walk up the track in the dust and the smell of wild mint comes and goes.