If I Just Lay Here, Would You Lie With Me And Just Forget The World?

Back home is sunny Derbyshire.  Although it's raining right now, a little after sunset, and by the look of things, my garden needs it.  Cooling, low-lying clouds envelop the valleys and shrink my world to more immediate concerns.  The roses have come with their second flush, the lilies are all about to pop and a couple of perfectly beautiful baby-cheek pink lilies are already giving up their delicious scent to the warm garden air.  The pinks are pretty much done, my most favourite rose Tess of the D'Urbervilles is climbing sweetly through the Akebia Quinata and the Merlot vine, nudging the espalier pears towards the sun and autumn sweetness.  The climbing Borlotti beans are already showing, the sweet peas struggling against my natural inability to grow them successfully, and everywhere my kitchen garden looks parched just waiting, waiting for the reviving drenching of midsummer rainfall.  Rainfall at this time of year always always makes me think of that most perfect, perfect scene from Lady Chatterley.  And of you.

And still the rain falls, splishying splashing onto the window ledges through open windows as I give my house the airing its needed for so many months.  I'm home, and listening to these tracks first heard this summer on Radio Caroline.