I don’t think there is anywhere better to be than an English Country Garden in the summer.

New blooms appear overnight, flowerbeds and pots are awash with colour, the bees are so happy you can almost hear it as they go about their business, and the sight – and smell – of a fresh rose is an unparalleled reward for your hard work.

Quite different to a crisp, clean city garden, I like the tumbling messiness of country gardens – the wispy tendrils of this and that, flowerbeds blending into the grassline, wild flowers and pretty weeds left to border a lawn, cow parsely creeping up through the herbs.

I have loved seeing everything I planted, potted or cultivated earlier in the year slowly coming to life in the past weeks – dahlias, nemetia, cosmos, romneya, hydrangeas, roses, snapdragons, foxgloves, poppies and more.

And in our village, the most beautiful garden I have ever seen is really starting to come to life now.

At the moment it is bursting with stocks, poppies and lupins. The colours are glorious. This garden has to be my touchpoint for the seasons – as the weeks grow hotter or colder, the weather wetter or drier, this stunning garden, sweeping down the valley in a sea of colour, seems to sing with joy at being alive. The are flowers here all year round, seasonal and plentiful, it is such a treat to see it every day.

And inside the house, the garden is making itself known too…this morning I filled a vase with blooms, all picked, still wet with dew, from our own flowerbeds.

Fresh flowers from your own garden are one of life’s joys. And they’re free. Amazing…