For example, the other Friday I had a bit of a stressy day at work, but, fortunately I get to walk home afterwards. After walking through the gate, the first thing I am hit by is the perfume of the rosa rugosa that is planted as one passes between industrial estates. If you don’t know what this smells like, then I can only describe it as the scent you expect from a rose (but which you rarely get these days) but more so, it hits you before you see the rose itself, which, lets face it, is a bit of a messy looking thing. This is probably my favourite scent (although honeysuckle can give it a run for its money). Straight away, mood lifted.

Then, as I walk along, listening to the song thrush, I find the dog roses in amongst the hedges (little scent, but look pretty), and the flag iris by the lake. As I get to the old railway track I can hear the chiffchaff calling, the trees rustling in the wind and, strangely enough, a red legged partridge sat on top of someone’s roof shouting away, no wonder they get shot, that would have to be one of the most annoying sounds.

So, with a smile on my face from encountering such an unlikely bird sat on a roof top, I wander past more dog roses, hear families of long tailed tits chirring in the trees, and, wander past the fluffy clouds of elder flowers. Not a bad way to end the week.