The Grove is busy with families, scooters and push chairs, enjoying the sun; and the sky above the park is busy too. Vapour trails criss cross like paths ending nowhere, and I count five planes travelling at different heights and in different directions.
In the sunbeams, gnats move to and fro like specks of gold, but some move up and down like yoyos.
We prune the lavender, cutting back the flower spikes which are at last exhausted and our hands and the surrounding air smells sweet.
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