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On my way home from Oxford this afternoon I detoured up the narrow lane to Wittenham Clumps. I've posted pictures from here many times and I used to come up here with Jake several times a week but since he died, months ago, I've never got further than the car park. I took it very slowly, in stages, stopping at every bench until I got to the point in the curve of the crest where the poem tree used to stand, where you can see both the patchwork fields stretching South to the distant Ridgeway and the glimmer of the Thames amongst the trees to the East. I sat there for a while, under the edge of the beech wood, with the place and the view all to myself, the faintest of breezes, just enough to bring an occasional welcome relief from the muggy heat of the day without breaking the stillness or the silence.