I was just outside, enjoying the sun, which has been constant this week. I ate so many home grown carrots while I was out there and slowly, my younger years came flooding back. We used to run around under the sprinkler, picking carrots from the garden washing them with our fingers. Then the summer there was an abundance of strawberries, we'd spend all evening lying in the grass, with red faces and bare, grotty feet. The plum tree, they cut down, how many hours were spent up there? or jumping off? or climbing onto the shed roof? or getting stuck up there? Cricket in the street and melting icy-poles, hot asphalt and sea air. I always thought there were stages in life, but there aren't. It is all continuous and you don't magically grow up, you just flow with the seasons and change and never go back to grazed knees and ginger beer under the stars.