I stepped out of the back door and straight into autumn. After a month or so of unseasonably warm September weather, the “phoney war” was over and the October winds had arrived. Still on the doorstep, I was deluged by a flurry of falling leaves. A gust sent me stumbling down the garden. If I’d been carrying an umbrella I might have been lifted up and carried away over the chimney pots with the jackdaws. Just yesterday, the butterflies basked on the ivy; today the ivy shuddered under the wind as the rain coursed down. The ladybirds that had climbed up yesterday’s green beans were hunkering down as best they could under leaves and in pods. Towards midday, there was a familiar cry under the eaves of the house. One of the house martins had returned. It was the young on