Autumn leaves now litter the ground. The leaves which are still attached to their trees and shrubs are turning brown, yellow and red and the turgidity of spring and summer is being replaced with the desiccated foliage of autumn and the dentritic forms of the approaching winter. There is still a richness in the damp smell of the garden, albeit the ripeness of the harvest month is being replaced with the mouldiness of the dieing year. The life of the garden is being superceced by death and hibernation. A time for reflection, a time for retrenchment, a time for wood fires and the comfort of warm drinks and food. A time to wonder why and what if. A time in the affairs of man.
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