Finally, the sun is beginning to appear. The garden, tangled and overgrown from a long, wet winter, needs attention. There is nothing to compare with a couple of hours at the weekend, weeding, pruning, tending to the lawn and clearing the drive accompanied by friendly robins, garden smells, and the whisper of the wind in the trees. Until the drones arrive. Like oversized arachnids, they disturb my thoughts, scatter the birds, deprive me of my blissful solitude.