It's autumn again. The rowan berries are glowing like jewels in the afternoon sunshine, great clusters of them reaching up to the sky. I circle the trees, taking photographs and looking, noticing. Some of the rowan trees have lost their leaves already, others have russet ones clinging on. There are conker shells on the ground under the horse chestnut tree; its leaves are only just starting to turn. Dandelions are still flowering, and the tops of the dockens are covered in burgundy seeds. And then there are the sycamore seeds, or helicopters, as we used to call them. Although I think this is a maple of some sort - the leaves are more pointed, and the helicopters larger, than those of a sycamore.