Here's a sight that makes my heart sing... buttercups. I've loved them since I was a small child, when we used to pick them and hold their gloriously vibrant, shiny little goblets under our chins. If there was a yellow reflection (and there always was!) we said we 'liked butter'! I am always cheered by the sight of a meadow sparkling with these beauties, under a summery blue sky. Apart from a bluebell wood, little is more quintessentially English, in my view.