A ghost in the garden: winter gnats dance in the evening gloom

Claxton, Norfolk: The wandering smoke of tiny insects billows in a corner, where the holly breaks the last dim daylight

Anyone who ever put in a hard stint of gardening knows the moment. The tasks are at a natural end. Tools are all stowed. There is even a satisfying link between your heavy limbs and the sense of rough order pulled out of the hedge and lawn and gathered up in the fresh-edged woodstack. The loss of light, the swelling damp and the quietness of the air after all the brisk morning - even the day and season seem to join in this aura of things completed.

You pause to enjoy all of it. And in a corner, where the holly breaks the last dim daylight there is a wandering smoke billow of tiny insects. There are no more than a score but you wonder have these flies emerged just, or have you acquired the peace of mind to see them only now? And rather like the garden's pleasing order, are they a gift only of hard work?