Summer comes calling.

Summer comes calling.

Here she is in all her golden splendour, her stunning timelessness, her seasonal acoustics, her wise and contented appearance, her musical rhythms and that striking beauty. What, you may rightly ask, am I talking about? What on earth has possessed me to string together such purple prose and poetic imagery? Besides, here we are in the middle of May, the football season in Britain is over for another season, the FA Cup Final between Manchester United and Chelsea is just days away and still the remnants of winter are hanging around as if determined to stand their ground.

And yet we can talk about summer because that's how most of us feel at the moment. The coughs, colds, flu, and viral complaints that seemed to sweep  the country in the last couple of months should be consigned to some dusty attic. We should now be looking forward to summer in England which in itself  is so comically unpredictable at times that it's best not to look too far forward. The world will undoubtedly keep spinning regardless of what happens to us and despite the inexplicable events around us.

For instance on Saturday Prince Harry, the Queen's grandson will be marrying Meghan Markle at Windsor Castle. Now there are those who probably believe that anything connected to royalty should be taken with a pinch of salt. But personally as somebody who believes quite fervently in the stability and constancy that Her Majesty the Queen has given us throughout the decades this should be the time for a courteous acknowledgement of everything the Royal Family have unconditionally offered us.

Sadly, the whole history of royal marriages has been burdened by unfortunate circumstances, combustible relationships and a horrible sense of flux. The sniggering cynics still cling onto the terribly mistaken belief that those Royals are just a waste of time, unreasonably privileged, pampered, wealthy and perhaps completely out of touch with the public at large. But my belief is that both the Queen, Prince Philip and their family have done much more for Britain and the Commonwealth than some may or may not think. In good times or bad, Her Majesty has always remained calm, composed and steadfast, unfailingly dutiful and always compassionate.

For well over 64 years the Queen, although meticulously cared for, looked after and immaculately turned out on all occasions, is still the figurehead, the prominent figure admired and respected the world over. Of course she is warmly spoken of the world over, a figure of unswerving graciousness, kindness, sympathy, energy and warmth wherever she goes. The cynics though would give you an altogether less flattering account of the Royal Family but then we're all entitled to our opinions.

But on Saturday, Prince Harry, allegedly the wild child, the restless spirit, the footloose and fancy free, independent Harry has if, you like, been tamed by an American actress charmed by her Prince. It sounds like the ultimate fairy tale but there are those who think that maybe the world in modern parlance is distinctly lacking in fairy tales and romantic alliances.

Summer though will assuredly rest its tranquil head over the streets of Windsor on Saturday. Here within the grounds of the historic Windsor Castle, the soft breezes of late spring will linger and hover for a while, the Union Jack flags and banners waving listlessly but meaningfully over this most picturesque town. There will be a sense that whatever may have happened to the Royal Family over the years, we're still here, we haven't gone away and we were always with them even though the clouds may have been darkening and thickening.

Harry, with that mischievous twinkle in his eye, will check his flawlessly ironed shirt, tie and suit rather like one of those Moss Bros tailors who spend all of their days with that faithful tape measure next to them and forever mindful that on Saturday the Queen's grandson is getting married and he needs to look his best. The hair will be combed a thousand times, the shoes polished to an almost fanatical state of perfection and Harry will be the picture of sartorial elegance as we always knew he would be.

But in the background summer will be having fun and games, teasing and then running away, before flirting and laughing rather like screaming, happy children in a constant state of animation. The Royal Wedding is of course our main focus and summer has made absolutely sure that Windsor is wearing the prettiest carnation on its suit, maintaining a regal dignity and that unique civility that should always adorn Royal Weddings.

Back in the heart of suburban and urban England, Britain and the world, preparations are underway for this great opening summer social event. The Chelsea Flower Show, the Henley Regatta, Polo on the playing fields of England and tennis at Wimbledon may well be with us shortly. But for the time being behind every lace curtain and blind in Britain's very private living rooms there is a palpable excitement and the picnics are out, knives industriously buttering pieces of bread for endless sandwiches with whatever spread of their choosing.

 Then there will be the bumper packs of crisps, biscuits and cakes in sheer abundance, the appropriate songs for the day and a general sense of occasion and indulgence, quite possibly over indulgence.  Then families across the world will rush out onto their roads and streets, set up groaning tables of more food and drink. Britain will now come out of its winter stagnation and sense of helplessness to be greeted by a wild air of happy go lucky hedonism, dancing around the street lamp-posts and celebrating everything they might have thought they'd never see again.

You can almost hear summer knocking on our door, the keys rattling and clinking in the lock, eagerly anticipating the arrival of a newly wed Prince and her blushing Princess. And as they leave Windsor with the resounding cheers of the public racing after them and wishing them well we will be comforted with the knowledge that maybe just maybe the Royal Family are still there and that the good, old triumphant days will always beat the bad days quite handsomely.

Summer has brushed itself down, cleaned itself to look utterly respectable and all those dark days of yesteryear have been hidden away in the attic and only taken out when the photo albums bring a nostalgic lump to our throats. Summer is indeed good, excellent, healthy, virtuous, discreet, polite, undemanding, brighter and lighter which goes without saying and soon here. It is full of sedateness, leisureliness, playful happiness and families with their traditional barbecues.

But now we anticipate the nuptials of Prince Harry and Meghan Markle. The chapel bells will be ringing out across the wide rural acres of Berkshire, Buckinghamshire, Hampshire, Yorkshire and Lancashire. Thousands of vicars, priests and bishops will proudly await their parishioners with a warm and welcoming smile. Britain will stop thinking about its now frosty relations with its EU officials, forget about all those binding contracts and documents, forget about those stifling laws and regulations in Brussels and just enjoy the mouth watering prospect of  one enormous knees up, a celebration to remember and a May day that will certainly deliver the goods. Oh yes, bring it on.