The wind is howling in the chimneys today, and like the changing tides the rain storms come, and sweep across the moor, and are gone again. And then another storm comes in, one storm on the next.
In between, the cloud clears and there is blue sky and sun, shining on the stone walling as it twists and weaves its way across the Vally.
Those fields that have been harvested have now been ploughed and the rain turns then black, like brushed velvet, rich dark earth waiting to nourish another crop - another year. Field mice and robins prepare for the cold, filling their winter food stores, repairing their shelter. The log stack steams in the sudden sunshine.
This is England in the Autumn time.
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