Local patch 31

We don't often need to seek out the shade in a British summer. Sun-starved, we move our chairs out of the shadows; we walk on the sunny side of the street; we throw open the shutters and let the light in. It is noticeable that our garden plants do better in sunny spots, unless they are shade specialists. It is an overlooked gardening lesson: get the soil right, get the moisture right, get the light right too. Generally, we feel better in the sunshine and warmth. To sit long into the soft night - as the moths sip from night scented flowers, the bats hawk and twist in the purple air and the family of tawny owls chuckle and chatter from the barn - is one of life's rare pleasures. We know we must protect our skin too. 'Any suntan is skin damage', I read years ago in a beauty magazine and so we cover up when we travel to the sun and acknowledge that perhaps a youthful complexion is one benefit of living in our cool, green climate.

Perhaps we don't think very much about the need for shade until we go on holiday and notice those heavy shutters which are used to protect interiors from the heat of the day. And those colourful, striped awnings over shop fronts really do make sense when we feel the heat of the midday sun. Suddenly, siesta seems very sensible. We appreciate the landscaping that makes towns and cities bearable. In the desert climate of  north western Argentina's city of Mendoza, channels of cool flowing water (acequias) from the snowmelt in the Andes, irrigate the shade trees and keep the temperature comfortable. It is hard to imagine the Alhambra Palace in Granada, without the sound of running water and the cooling influence of its cascades, fountains and symbolic pools. Water, and the power of reflection in its mirrored surfaces, is one of the key elements of Islamic paradise gardens. Dubai, that city where there really shouldn't be a city, is surprisingly green and well irrigated. And yet in the fierce heat of the desert summer, it is still too hot for humans to linger in the sun. Even the bus stops are air conditioned.

This year, the gulf stream has looped far to the north of Europe - and there it has stayed, bringing us sustained periods of hot, dry weather. It doesn't feel like Britain. It doesn't look much like it either; gardens, parks and hedgerows are the colour of straw and plants have gone to seed. Harvest is starting early. At least there is dry weather to bring it safely in, even if the late and cold spring has reduced yields. Here, on the misty, green Somerset Levels, the rivers are low and the ditches and rhynes are all dried up. Our wildlife pond could do with a top up too. In this land of rain, we don't always regard water as precious. A summer such as this makes us think carefully about how we use it and save it and guard it. 

However, our wonderful, gleaming wetlands are still teeming with life. At Ham Wall it is a good year for butterflies, dragons, damsels and frogs. Like us, the creatures have learned to hide during the heat of the day, but early in the day and later in the afternoon there is plenty to see. They need to go about their essential business: feeding their young and building up fat reserves.

On an early run this morning, I hugged the line of the hedge. As I ran up the hill past the cemetery, I was grateful for the deep, dark shade. Somerset has a rich network of species-rich hedgerows and field boundaries. Many, around the village are steeply banked, suggesting ancient trackways carved into the land. And I noticed the importance of shade and the ability to get out of the sun. We don't usually hide from it in this country but how nice, just sometimes, to have the choice!