Down the road, early evening.

A bright windy gap between showers, clouds whipped and pulled and piled every way; eastward a boom of thunder sets the neighbours' sharp-eared collie barking. Cloth-eared Molly takes no notice.

Up the road, afternoon

There are royal blue cornflowers growing against Marcelle's fence, and pink corn cockles at Le Boissy. I pick dog daisies, foxgloves, honeysuckle, green ears of wheat, bracken and purple vetch.