What are you most struck by while strolling through your town centre or village high street?

Is it the number of nail bars and vape shops? Maybe memories of what once lurked in the increasing array of empty shop fronts? Or is it, as seems increasingly the case, the smell of cannabis in the air?

Because it seems rare these days not to get a waft of a joint being smoked somewhere in the vicinity.

Whether it is being openly puffed by people on the street – almost always those much older than you would expect, dispelling the theory it’s predominantly teens experimenting – emerging from residential windows above shops or, even, from passing cars; it seems to be everywhere.

If you were keen on the occasional toke then you can probably save yourself a few quid simply by breathing in deeply while strolling to the Co-op instead of actually having to track down a dodgy dealer.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m no prude when it comes to this sort of thing – each to their own and all that – it’s just surprising how it’s morphed from cheeky, hidden, use to full-on out-in-the-open puffing away.

When, I wonder, did that change? When the number of police started to fall? When vapes made huge clouds of stinky substances commonplace? Who knows.

Once upon a time, it was only when meandering through a music festival site the distinct scent would alight upon my nostrils.

It was a sign that you were in a little bubble of escapism – where there was a rather more laid-back atmosphere. Where, frankly, the police had been told to turn a blind eye unless they spotted someone pushing a wheelbarrow of the stuff in the hope of flogging it.

The east Kent village in which I live is one of those beloved by retired folk – a place abundant in bungalows and a demographic very much true blue when it comes to its political leaning.

In other words, not the place you would expect to inadvertently get a lungful of dope while strolling down its main thoroughfare.

But nine times out of 10 you catch a whiff of the stuff.

Now, I may be mistaken, but while I appreciate cannabis is now a popular pain relief, I do not believe the older generation around these parts have turned to smoking the stuff rather than, say, popping an aspirin. Or simply getting an early night.

Perhaps, I’ve pondered, there’s a cannabis farm lurking nearby which is occasionally carried on the breeze. But the reality is that in every Kent town I’ve found myself in recently, it’s lurking there too.

Surely they can just be a bit more, well, discreet?

Back in my day, if you were going to partake, you did it somewhere away from prying eyes – or the aforementioned festival setting.

What you didn’t do was stroll down a town centre puffing merrily away.

Makes me miss the days when the only smells you encountered were the tempting aroma of nearby takeaways or from plants of a different variety - flowers.