The sounds: the muffled clatter of the wind, the constant breathy splash of water, the pocking of rain, the sputter of hail. A dog barks; the plaintive whimper of a lamb; the tinny chime of a church clock; somewhere – always – someone is hammering.
And the smells: wet leaves; manure; and everywhere the comforting scent of wood-smoke.
Back home, as well as finishing The Goldfinch, I plan to read Ruth Padel’s The Mara Crossing published by Chatto and Windus and to re-read Mike McCarthy’s The Moth Snowstorm: Nature and Joy (John Murray 2015)