Much as I am enamoured of the idea of sun worship, as practised by Aztec fundamentalists and the islanders in The Wicker Man, among others, I cannot help but feel John Donne was right when he described the golden orb as a “busie old foole”. At Hooting Yard, it is usually overcast, or raining, or snow-smothered, which is just how we like it. (To those of you who live in snowless regions, be advised that snow is nothing else but the foam or froth of rainwater from heaven.)

One person who I suspect would have agreed with me was the painter Karl Weschke. When asked if he chose to live in Cornwall because of the quality of the light, he replied: “Cornish light? I’ve got a 60-watt light-bulb and I keep the curtains closed.”

See how much one can learn by reading The Dabbler?