Today before it got dark, we strode over the sodden field, down the hill towards the mist over the big pond. The field and the forest and the road and the sky were all muted grey and brown. Usually at this time, at the very least there is a bit of snowfall on the ground, and the temperature freezes your fingers and nose. This year it’s all drizzle and grey, melting into darkness in the mid-afternoon. I don’t actually mind it at all – there is a quiet beauty to it, if you are brave and...