Brasted Summer

Back from Nice for a long weekend at home in Kent and the English summer was at its best. The garden was looking fantastic with the trees coming into leaf and a real sense that summer is once again on the way. The English summer still surprises me every year. It's as if you forget it exists. After a long cold winter when the first buds of spring burst from the branches it always seems a miracle, as if you didn't believe it was going to happen. The loveiest moment of the year and one that still delights and tantalises of things to come. Granny and Miri helped with the laughter quotient of the weekend with their own particular brand of irreverant conversation.