An early start yesterday morning saw us on the cross-country route towards Houghton Mill in Cambridgeshire. This was where my mother had requested her ashes be scattered, as it was one of her favourite places. The 141 miles took longer than expected, due to numerous road works with speed limits. As we approached Kettering, we passed what looked like the National Collection of Portacabins. I had never seen so many in one place. It was a building firm’s depot. Across the M1 and in East Anglia, the lowland lambs were much bigger than those seen the previous week in the uplands and the oilseed rape flowers more advanced than those seen further north. The fields are huge and one advertised the fact that it was growing cereals for Weetabix. Once we got to Houghton and found our way through the narrow streets of the medieval village we parked by the mill and found the rest of the family. It was easy to see why this was a much-loved spot with the picturesque mill (still working and producing flour), the river Ouse with nesting swans

many trees in full blossom

and even the remains of an old railway to keep my railway enthusiast uncle happy. It dates back to 1847 and ran from Huntingdon to St Ives.