We wake up to swathes of mist floating across the valley, and the soft hoots of owls in the lingering darkness - autumn is here, with its beautiful soft, golden-turning leaves and clusters of nuts on the trees; its plumes of woodsmoke and dripping branches; its busy tractors and bounding squirrels. In the garden everything seems to be rust-coloured and soft-textured. We have lots of rudbekia sahara, velveteen to the touch and it's colour an interesting blend of pale orange and smoky plum. The dahlias are so abundant it's as though they're being constantly splodged onto the stems by some giant paintbrush - the more we pick there more we have. Amaranthus, zinnias, chrysanthemums and our favourite little garden chrysanths - all is orangey and peachy and pretty.