Autumn is over. We have raked up the leaves. We have rolled the hedgehogs into safe places. We have stocked the bird table with niger seed for the goldfinches and suet for the rats. We have planted wallflowers on the Home Beach, and hidden the junglechaos of the kitchen garden under grim black sheets of Mypex. We have brought in the hackings of Scotch pines liberated by the creation of the Caledonian Glade and flung them on the fire. We have . . .
展开▼
