A glorious day, the bluest of blue skies only marred by the scars left by the jet planes as they fly to impossibly sunnier climes.
A pair of buzzards hold a high formation, while swallows scythe the air in insect driven dogfights and a harmony of bees hover like helicopters over the flower beds.
My little garden has turned into a ragged delight, yes there are gaps and some of the stalwarts have rushed through the flowering season, but others are dutifully stepping up to join the fray.
After a slow start the cape daises are finally starting to fill out, brightly nodding and bobbing their pretty heads and holding hands with the their neighbours.
I have been planting furiously, filling any available space with; cornflowers, argyranthemum, love in the mist, cosmos, and any other wild flower that winks at me in the garden centre. They all seem to be loving their new home adding beauty and texture to the neighbourhood.
My roses, which I must admit I have had problems with in the past, prone to a touch of black spot or rose rust, have never looked better, or smelled sweeter than now. I bravely cut them right back earlier in the year which seemed extreme at the time but has done them the world of good.
However, there is trouble in paradise, the moment that I have been both looking forward to and fearing has finally come, the builders have arrived. Natures song has been usurped by the hydraulic hiss and bone rattling grind of machinery, where my lovely roses once climbed rubble grows, a layer of dust weighs down the daisies and bricks lay heavy on my mind and lawn.
The extension has begun.