The last four weeks in England have been sunny - day after golden day not too hot, not humid, with lovely, soft breezes. Perhaps for that reason all the events of summer seem to be overflowing from a cornucopia of delight. Cricket is being played on village greens. Young men and women (and older ones) are surfing. Golfers are swinging. Tennis players are smacking balls, and picnics are being spread in the grass. Riders are passing at the bottom of the garden. And the garden calls. Actually, many gardens call with their various beauties as I walk round Hampshire. Meanwhile all the old houses of Britain are open and welcoming visitors. Outdoor concerts are enjoying halcyon weather and featuring sunburned singers. Drivers of fine old cars and bikes are touring country lanes on their way to rallies, and children are gathering for fêtes. Britain in the summer. What a place to be. Even those of us who are working can enjoy this.