The roses are still in bloom in what I laughingly refer to as the garden but the swallows have left us and with their departure a particular silence descends upon the land. It’s always a sad
The roses are still in bloom in what I laughingly refer to as the garden but the swallows have left us and with their departure a particular silence descends upon the land. It’s always a sad
This year we let the field grow wild without cutting it for silage. And the field repaid us handsomely for its freedom from the