Sitting under the oak, a breeze caused a sudden shower of oak leaves. Across the valley the oaks are still showing red, and the hazel are clinging stubbornly to their yellow-green leaves. Maybe they know that I am going to coppice them once they have dropped their foliage. The nearby field maple is a deep golden yellow still, but fraying at the crown. One sycamore has been bare for a couple of weeks already, while the big old sycamore in the corner us only just beginning to undress. The ash have been displaying the silver sinuous curves of their inner, sleeping selves for a fortnight already.
A few days ago I brought down a young sycamore which was showing signs of a disease which seems to be creeping around the valley. It seems to follow squirrel damage. All the twigs and branches have been prepared for the stove in 2010 (no bonfires here) but the trunk is calling for a bit of sweat.
There are still a few apples on the branches of the Bramley, maybe enough for another 4 jars of stewed apple. If I can find any more jars. Every available space is lined with little golden pots of stewed apple.
I have to go see my MP this afternoon to discuss the financial crisis, and try to find out why pyramid selling is illegal for the general public, but not illegal for traders in the stock markets.