Blink and you’ll miss it!

Even on cold, grey days you can catch a glimpse of gold

– if you get up early enough!

Up in the clouds

When I am Rich I want to live in a house with panoramic mountain views.

Until then, I’ll have to improvise with clouds ... and my imagination.

I live in the Cambridgeshire fens. It’s certainly not the worst place on earth, but it is very F L A T!

What would you like to see from your window?

Hunting hares

When I am Rich, I’ll invest in a really good telephoto lens for my camera in the hope of getting a photo of a running hare that shows more than a brown blur.

 Until then, I’ll just have to try snapping them when they’re still.

 Trouble is, they’re very good at playing hide-and-seek.

  

Picnic perfection

When I am Rich, I’ll be able to invite my friends to a really posh picnic. Beneath a blue, summer sky we’ll travel in a convoy of open horse-drawn carriages to some idyllic beauty spot where my staff (under the skilled direction of the butler and chef) will have prepared the most delicious selection of food and drink.

It will be a feast for all the senses: pristine white tablecloths, fine porcelain and silver cutlery, arrangements of scented roses and orange blossom, champagne served in crystal goblets, dainty sandwiches, homemade lemonade, colourful salads, a small orchestra accompanied by blackbirds and skylarks, lots of pies and cakes, several types of tea, strawberries and cream, trifle, good conversation, laughter, fun and games …

and not a single drop of rain, a wasp or stinging nettle in sight!

But until then I’m happy to make do with

 

some simple food,

a free picnic table

 and a view like this.

 

Ploughing a new furrow

One of the things I love best about this time of year is the way so many birds suddenly decide to flock together. Nature switches to party mode as the jostling, chattering crowd swoops excitedly from place to place.

 When I am Rich I’ll buy a tractor and offer to help the neighbouring farmers with their autumn ploughing and sowing. I might even resort to offering bribes for the chance to be the centre of such joyful attention!

Beautiful grazers

I’ve just found another must-have addition for my When I am Rich garden. I want a fold of these wandering around. (I’ve discovered that Highland cattle come in folds – not herds.) They might look menacing, especially when you unexpectedly come across a large bull blocking your path, but they are very calm, placid creatures.

Of course I’ll also need to add a few hundred acres of the North Yorkshire moors to my garden so the new inhabitants feel at home …

Deflated!

How pleasant it is to cycle unhurriedly along quiet country lanes on a warm afternoon … 

… and how annoying and exhausting it is to have to push your bicycle all the way home in scorching heat because you’ve had a puncture.

When I am Rich (or probably before then) I am definitely going to invest in puncture proof tyres!

A-tishoo!

When I am Rich I will still live in the countryside, but not in the part of our green and pleasant land where I am now. I love having trees, grass and wild plants of all kinds as my neighbours. I have no problem with fields of wheat, barley, potatoes, beans, cabbages, turnips or other vegetables. Orchards would be a delight! But I don’t want to be in a place where I can see this from my window:

                                             

                                                A-tishoo!

                                   Oh, what is that honeyed fragrance  

that wafts on the summer breeze?   

‘Tis surely the scent of ambrosia      

that gods sup while taking their ease.

Is it the breath of sweet roses,

or lilies both costly and rare?

Does it drift from the north or the south,

this perfume that fills all the air?

I must find the source of this wonder,

so I follow my nose down the lane.

And there, like a giant’s spilled treasure,

is a shimmering, bright yellow plain.

I gaze at the dazzle of flowers

till my eyes and my nose start to stream.

Oh, no! Dreaded oilseed rape!
                                   Where’s my anti-histamine?