Dreamy

"And thorough this distemperature we see
The seasons alter: hoary-headed frosts
Far in the fresh lap of the crimson rose,
And on old Hiems' thin and icy crown
An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds
Is, as in mockery, set: the spring, the summer,
The childing autumn, angry winter, change
Their wonted liveries, and the mazed world,
By their increase, now knows not which is which:
And this same progeny of evils comes
From our debate, from our dissension;
We are their parents and original"
   Titania. A Midsummer Night's Dream

Funny how old Bill's words can strike you with new meaning even now. Of course, he had no clue about the danger of climate collapse but, in common with his time, he had a sense that balance and order in the human sphere are matched by the same in the natural world, the spirit world and the weather. Funny that he turns out to be right

If you are missing the long sunny days, I'm sorry, but I found it uncanny and unpleasant. I took to closing curtains to keep out the glare, and regretting we have a house with so many windows. I felt something in me relax when clouds appeared and rain started falling. 'Progeny of evils' struck a chord

Only 9 years late, we finally watched Russell T Davies madcap, made-for-TV version of the play on BBC. I loved it; it pleased the Guardian and the Telegraph, so it must have something right

I finally ventured as far as the next village, returning the hive in which the new bees were kindly given to us. The lane is one of my favourites, retaining a timelessness that conjures a nostalgia for farming times past. The cattle fit the part, as if cast in a BBC period drama. The Hereford breed as traditional as, well, roast beef. I don't think these are pure bred - a Hereford bull put to some red and white dairy breed is my guess - maybe Ayrshire or red and white Friesian. If you can see the wire of an electric fence, well, every drama has its flaws