Today the gardener came, or in my case my neighbour Andrea’s friend with a tractor and contraption that he drags through my meadow. As the sound of rocks being hurled through the air echoes across the valley, I am reminded how important friends are. Language can come and go but the sight of an elderly woman jumping up and down shouting me, me! and pointing at the tractor is the same in any dialect. As with neighbours sunflowers always bring joy.