Well the bluebells and daffs have come and gone, the honeysuckle all but disappeared too, though as well as forcing its way out of the wood sideways from where I planted it years ago, searching the sun, the other day I spotted its flowers 30 feet in the air above some of the trees. 
Likewise the rambling roses, always a pleasure peering above the hedge but now, especially the wild strawberries. I used to pick and eat them but they are so small and often hidden, that it is a lot of work for little reward, so I leave them, as with most of the grapes on the lone vine, struggling to emerge from the surrounding blackberries by the bottom pond, to the birds. 
There are a few, very few, white roses about 2 metres from where I am sitting. A gift from a visiting dog lover, the pot was plonked down just beyond the terrasse and left till a decision was made as to where to plant it. That decision was never made, so it simply poked its roots down where it was and flowers every year. A similar red rose was planted, up by the top pond, but one year disappeared never to be seen again.
Which is why nature, not me, is my gardener.
Edit: Cheerful news to come, soon I hope, when the farmer who uses the 2 fields we walk in, cuts the grass, he is always the last in the district to do so. At the moment it is chest/shoulder high and a bit of a pain when wet. This morning I watched as Jules made his circuit of investigation, all I could see of him was the raised tip of his tail scything through the waving sea. I could almost hear the ominous der da, der da der da as the dorsal fin circled and gradually got nearer. 
Cheerful news now though as I saw the various sized depressions where wild animals had rested in the night, deer, sanglier, foxes, rabbits ? 
) yesterday I came across a large envelope containing lots of small paperwork. Inside were loads of photos, including those tiny box Brownie type snaps and letters still in their envelopes.
