The small pond, installed many years ago, once home to several large frogs and downfall of an unwary neighbour, when rescuing ducklings from the fox – another story for a different time – is almost completely empty. Only a foul-smelling sludge remains and there is no sign of life. I loved this little pond, and would watch and photograph the frogs day after day.

Another day I will clean it out and refill it, add oxygenating plants and hope for the return of life. Today its decay seems to sum up the state of the garden as a whole.

But then…..yesterday we had lunch in the garden with a friend. Although many of the plants were drought-impacted, shrivelled and crisped, and we had to pause conversation when a train ground by, nevertheless, passing bowls of food between us and sharing hopes and memories reminded me of why the garden is so important to us.

Today we two risked the mosquitoes and had supper outside as it got dark. Good food, and the world quietly slowing down around us.

And later, as I watered pots containing the plants that have survived the heat and neglect, a sudden movement amongst the damp ivy. A small frog, which had found refuge in the spaces between, surprised by the sudden downpour into revealing itself. Who would have thought that a single frog could generate such a rush of emotion.