There is a small pocket of land in the midst of the Quantock Forests known as Ramscombe. It is magical. Sometimes, if you arrive early in the morning, before the dew is off the grass, you might find a herd of Quantock ponies grazing. They are shy and extremely protective of their young yet not wild enough not to be curious. They allow you only so close before skittering away, all stamping hooves and fierce nostrils. It is a peaceful place. The silence is broken only by the stamp of an unshod hoof or a birdcall.

At midday the whole atmosphere changes. The small road that encircles Ramscombe suddenly becomes busy. This is where the locals go to socialise and barbecue in the summer months. The council, with astonishing foresight, has built a number of barbecue pits. We locals roll up with meat, salad and posses of children and it becomes a free for all in the nicest of all possible ways.

It is a large pentagon of grass tumbling down a slope to form an inviting bowl at the bottom. It is surrounded by woods on every side, and at the bottom edge by a trickle of stream. The water meanders gently over a scree of pebble and earth to join a faster flowing stream at the far end of the valley.

The land climbs quite sharply to a lip at the top and the kids have endless games of tag or rolling down the hill. To the uninformed eye, they gather speed at an alarming rate before the natural contours level out and steepen again to bring them to a gentle stop. It is glorious. The right amount of open space for sun-worshippers, the right amount of shade for those who want to shelter from direct sun. Enough room for everyone.

Ramscombe has a congenial air about it. You meet families there you will never meet again, yet for that moment in time, you become the firmest of friends. Or you only meet those families in that one spot, year on year, but both adults and children pick up where they left off. Spend one day there and you can’t help feeling that there should be a Ramscombe in every neighbourhood.