It’s no wonder, I think, that afternoon tea was started by and intended for women. Could men really enjoy to the same extent the delicate patterns and tiny treats? And yet, so engaged are we in our activity, in each other, in this moment that we don’t notice the sun slip behind the trees or the clock make its way around the numbers again. We drink pot after pot and then break out the Pimms and move to couches from chairs. And when day slips out and night draws in, I think, what a good use of a day. I wonder what could be quite as fulfilling as an afternoon tea with friends.