I take a tour of the garden. At this time of year you can see the changes from day to day. Conifers are unclenching little bunches of bright green needles, the blossoms on the cherry- which started off a dazzling white- are gradually turning pink.
There are little white circles all over the top field. They turn out to be made of horse hair- and mark the spots where the smallest horse has been scrawming about on her back to rid herself of her winter coat.
This is the smallest horse. her name is Dot. She's a funny looking object. Her mother was a cob and her father was an appaloosa.