Once a year, the urge arises to hunt for treasure in Hay-on-Wye. The day seems to choose me, rather me it. It’s a similar feeling to the one night a year I want to sleep outside - I only know around 3PM on the day, that the coming night is the one.

For Hay, the feeling arises around 8PM on a scorching, Friday evening in July.

The following morning, the journey begins early with the a drive across the verdant Herefordshire plains. Spending limits and bookshelf space are negotiated, as is the time and place for us to pick over our hoards.

The treasure I seek is always drawing reference. The more niche and bizarre the better. I love imagining the person who felt the world needed a book on stained glass windows from 12th century Welsh churches and made then made it their mission to bring the work to life. A lady in the village over from me, wrote a book entitled: ‘Pollarded Trees and Their Historical Significance: A Study in Wichenford Parish’ - I’m looking for her kindred spirits.

After parking the car, and having resisted the compulsion to blow my budget on second hand tatt in the junk shops, on the short walk from the car park to Castle Street, I arrive at the long promenade of second hand bookshops, ready spend the afternoon rummaging.

On our last trip, I stumbled upon pure gold. Browsing the gardening section, no doubt subconsciously trying to find an answer to why my scabious are crap every year, I came across a book on gardening through the 20th century.

Filled with wonderful characters and stories of what gardening has meant to people across the UK. It was a love letter to gardening in all its forms and how our relationship with the outdoors has changed over the last 100 years. The book is now the first I reach for, whenever I’m at a loss for what to draw.