Well summer marches on , the longest day and midsummer's day are behind us and yet it seems hardly to have started . Our Devon lanes , which are narrow at the best of times are now half the width they were , as an abundance of greenery spills out of the hedgerows ; ferns , bracken , cow parsley buttercups campion ,ragged robin all fighting for space whilst through the tangled mass ,spears of pale purple foxgloves push skywards . The sight of a bumble bee emerging backwards out of one of the flowers always makes me smile as it reminds me of a great aunt who always emerged backwards from her Morris mini - all bum and no elegance . Up from us the road is arched by hazel and as you walk through the tunnel ,the sunlight dances its way through the leaves and creates a kaleidoscope of patterns on the mottled tarmac surface of the road .Then you come to a gateway where you get a vista of rolling hills lining the valley and in the nearest field which undulates lazily across the hillside there is a crop of pale green barley which shimmers like water as the wind caresses the soft whiskery heads . I look at it with pleasure ,tempered by sadness as I know V can't see it as she now sits almost bent double and I also know that if I tell her about it - it hurts as it is yet another aspect of her life which has been taken away and although later she may not even remember we have been out , the moment is one we no longer share .