The west window in the church here in Wye was destroyed by a landmine (on a parachute) in the Second World War and was replaced by these wonderful panels showing the agricultural seasons, a plough-team vanishing, a red tractor - a moment in time, with much unchanged.
Spring becomes a distant memory and yet remains a delight to come and to remind us of one of the first signs, some say one of the season's first miracles, here's Robert Graham's haunting verse, First Lark, and published here on National Poetry Day.
Roberto's latest verse dwells on our new season suddenly arrived and its magic and the principal actors on the Autumn stage.
Now is the time to buy your Aguadulce broad bean seeds – big fat chaps that Jack would recognise; even though they do not grow as tall; just as well.
When Robert's poem, Abbaye St Wandrille de la Fontanelle, was first published, an admiring postcard from Kardamyli arrived in the mail: 'I was very moved by your charming short poem about St Wandrille ... it conjures up the magic of the place immediately.' It was signed Sir Patrick Leigh Fermor DSO OBE.