I have been taking photos of these five beech trees near my house for many years: you can see four seasonal shots in the header of this blog for instance.

To my great sadness, this will no longer be the case: this spring, it soon became evident that one has died already, and two are in distress. You can see that only the two at each end of the row are in full leaf: one is quite dead, and the other two already look poorly.

These trees appear on the Victorian OS map of the area, so have been a local landmark for about 150 years. What a shame that my children will not be able to come back and show their children the same sight.

Ecologists predict that beech trees will be one of the first species to succumb to the wetter winters and drier summers we expect in future. It may just be coincidence - but if not, this is one of the first really stark illustrations of climate change that I have seen.

Foxgloves are at their best just now. There have been fewer than usual in our field - but I discovered an absolutely stunning profusion of them at Holyford Woods nature reserve, a few miles from home. Some of the wood has been clear felled - and the resulting clearing is filled with foxgloves in their billions - there must be about ten acres I think!

I spent two hours feasting my eyes early in the morning when the sun was low - and the rest of the day daydreaming of pink. A bit like the dormouse in A A Milne's lovely poem.

On the first day of June, I was out and about with the camera before 6am. Roses are traditionally associated with this month: so I was delighted to see lots of dog roses and trailing roses blooming in the hedge just up our lane. Here is a dewy dog rose for all my friends here (and anyone else who enjoys such things.)

Well my dears - I had to get my passport out to do the leg-work for this story - over the border into Dorset!

We were intending to see "Pirates of the Carribbean 3" for a little light relief, but as the queue at the cinema was out of the doors and down the street 5 mins before start of programme, we decided to have a pint instead.

We went to the Royal Lion in Lyme Regis, and the evening didn't get off to a brilliant start.

Pete: "Two pints of Best please."
Barman: "We don't do Best."
Pete: "Well, what have you got then?"
Barman: "We do Gold."
Pete: "OK, two pints of Gold please."
Barman: "Gold's off - the barrel needs changing."
Pete: "OK, I suppose we'll have two pints of bitter."

(We checked to see if Harold Pinter was hiding under the table writing the script - but no sign of him, sadly.)

We sat in the bar and drank the beer - which was OK but not that special (or best, come to that). Two people were sitting at a nearby table, and while we watched, they were brought their meals by the barman. The chap asked if they could have refills of their drinks, and (like us) was rather taken aback when the barman came out with "No. You'll have to go to the bar - it's not table service" in a rather gruff manner. Sound of jaws dropping...

I could (just about) understand this if the pub had been really busy and the staff were run off their feet - but there were two barmen on duty and only a handful of occupied tables at the time. But as it was - such behaviour seems not only inexcusably rude, but also a PR disaster. I shall think twice before ever going in again - and I hope the couple concernend didn't leave a tip.

Why is it that service seems to be such a foreign concept in some establishments? I can't imagine this happening in the USA, for instance.

Next time - I'll stay in Devon!