…and so many orchards circled the village that on some crisp October afternoons the whole wold smelled like pie.

Children would beg for a peppermint drop each time he walked into town, and they’d follow behind, asking for a second and a third. When he died suddenly, while working late at his office, every...

Rained gently last night, just enough to wash the town clean, and then today a clean crisp fat spring day, the air redolent, the kind of green minty succulent air you’d bottle if you could...

Close your eyes and turn your face into the wind.Feel it sweep along your skin in an invisible ocean of exultation.Suddenly, you know you are alive.

I was drinking in the surroundings: air so crisp you could snap it with your fingers and greens in every lush shade imaginable offset by autumnal flashes of red and yellow.