A Little Meander Down Memory Lane, Through Leaves and Light It was a proper drizzly British morning, one of those days where the world outside seemed to sigh in a rather pleasant, contemplative way. I was pottering about in the garden, a mug of Earl Grey steaming gently in my hand, watching the raindrops cling to the leaves on our old silver birch. Each tiny bead of water seemed to make the greens even greener, adding a shimmering, almost magical quality to the everyday. It often takes something simple, something perfectly ordinary, to spark off a train of thought that leads to something rathe...
