Summer

 One of the things I miss most since leaving England eight years ago,  after living and working there for thirty years, is the English countryside in June. I love being back in Ireland, but summer is a hit-and-miss affair, so a summer trip to England to see family and friends is a particular pleasure. When we lived in England, we usually spent holidays abroad. Now we live in Ireland, we can be tourists in England. On a recent trip to our familiar stamping grounds in Berkshire, Oxfordshire, Gloucestershire, we strolled by the Thames - particularly beautiful at dusk - and drove along country roads lined by rich, rampant, abundant hedgerows. 'Adelstrop' by thepoet Edward Thomas came to mind. It captures the essence of a southern English summer. 

Yes. I remember Adlestrop—
The name, because one afternoon
Of heat the express-train drew up there
Unwontedly. It was late June.

The steam hissed. Someone cleared his throat.
No one left and no one came
On the bare platform. What I saw
Was Adlestrop—only the name

And willows, willow-herb, and grass,
And meadowsweet, and haycocks dry,
No whit less still and lonely fair
Than the high cloudlets in the sky.

And for that minute a blackbird sang
Close by, and round him, mistier,
Farther and farther, all the birds
Of Oxfordshire and Gloucestershire.

(Adelstrop, by Edward Thomas)