It’s the beginning of a hot day in Lincoln and after dropping John off at school I take the car to fill up with petrol. The smell of the petrol and the whirring of the pumps says to me that this won’t be a pleasant place to be as the morning moves into midday. It feels inner city, radiating concrete with little relief from the sun.
At home the back doors are already open and I hear the birds calling to each other in the garden. They are enjoying themselves. I can almost hear them say “this is why we come here every summer”. I too am relaxed. Tom bustles about upstairs but everyone else is out of the house.
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