I have been reading Edmund de Waal’s Letters to Camondo in the morning, each letter constructed as a thimbleful of ideas, issues, visual sensations, thoughts, memories, about pre-war Paris, the community of art, hunting, food, relations. When I have visited the Musèe Nissim de Camondo, I remember it as too claustrophobic, too preserved; but de Waal re-animates, revitalises the impressions of its world.

Two years ago to the day, we discovered the bluebell wood in Vaynol Park: a magical landscape in the care of the National Trust, south of the Menai Straits, chopped off from an old eighteenth-century landscape of woods and fields, with once-upon-a-time fine trees:-

Lots of lambs:-

And bluebells:-

We always try and go to Plas Cadnant – a beautiful and immaculately looked-after, large garden open to the public on the hills above Menai Bridge. It maintains strong elements of the picturesque – paths winding down the hill to the river in the valley below with more recent formal planting:-

At this time of year, the banks and hedgerows are full of wild flowers:-

There was wild garlic in the woods today:-

Our first view of the hills after an interval of almost exactly six months:-

There were sheep to greet us:-

And lambs:-

I did a quick giro round Cambridge revisiting old haunts. It was cold, but atmospheric, with tourists eating on King’s Parade.

The Fitzwilliam:-

Through the gates of Peterhouse (the colleges are all closed):-

The Gate of Honour at Caius:-

Trinity Lane:-

King’s Chapel from the backs:-

The Gibbs Building:-

The chapel at Pembroke:-