We are having a bit of an Indian Summer but sitting at my desk I am reminded that we are in a new season. The Boston Ivy on the roof of the oil store has started to change colour. It reminds me of a film I watch many years. As the leaves fell from the wall across the corridor that the lady could see out her bedroom window she dies with them, as each one fell she died a little more. Her little friend understood this before it was too late and so went out one night and painted some on, he may have died of cold doing this.