WHEN my dog ran into the pretty large grounds of the big house — not quite an old demesne, too modern for that, not quite big enough, but substantial all the same — the man came over to me.

He opened the large electronic gates and walked over in his shorts with his hand stretched out. He was friendly and welcoming, and the dog wasn’t a bother.

He was Drew and he was American and more than pleased with his new house. Someone else waved over from the doorway.

The unruly dog meant I had little chance to glean any more details from friendly Drew, but I knew the house had been up for sale and here they were, the new owners. Fair play to them.

At this time of year there are a lot of visitors around, tourists enjoying the scenery and the pubs, and we’re all secretly pleased with ourselves for living here. The visitors take up a lot of space and the streets are more crowded, and the roads too, but no one really resents the buzz and the life.

In the supermarket there’s barely a parking space, though in a matter of weeks there will be.

In the last few weeks........

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