The Nevern estuary provides relief in the heat of summer. Air moves in from the sea; the running water keeps you cool. This year there is the additional delight of a sheldrake family with seven ducklings. Now adolescent, they show soft shades of grey. When the tide is far out you may find them sitting on the firm river mud, an adult taking one or two compass points around the circle of snoozing young. Siesta finished, the youngsters bustle off to poke their bills into every likely piece of mud, or take a swim to use their foraging skills in the fresh water before the tide gives them another challenge.

The adults have a particular summons to call them together. All the young rush to the call. "From troubles of the world I turn to ducks." Walking along the path, you pass delicate wild roses now replacing the hawthorn flowers on the crowded bank, while the blackthorn sports little green sloes. Elderflower, thistles and honeysuckle, the warm smells of summer, foxgloves full of bees buzzing and gathering nectar - but where are the early butterflies? Swallowed by the winter? We saw one cabbage white, quite an achievement at the moment.

The pond on the adjoining golf course at least provides dragonflies and damselflies. The blue-tailed damselfly has the glorious name of Lachnura clegans, and lives up to it. A male emperor dragonfly patrols, his wings clicking. When another one dares to turn up he chases it far away. In the pond itself a palmate newt glides up and neatly enfolds a whirlygig beetle.

There is always something to see in a pond. However, we have really come here to catch the bee orchid on the dunes before it flies away. There they are. There are 25% more than there were last year. Whilst counting, I am almost sure it's a bee I'm looking at, a bee visiting a flower; but it is simply a flower. This is the magic of orchids: they present such a variety of differing flowers. Isn't nature marvellous?