Burrowye Blazes

My mother used to drive us a very long way, from our little farm  in the Camarthenshire hills to Netherwood Prep School down near Saundersfoot.  We braved flood, snow and mud. We stopped on the way home for Cadbury's Cream Eggs and Cordon Bleu cooking school magazines at the Narbeth newsagent. We listened to BBC Radio.  I was still young enough to be shocked by The Secret Diaries of Adrian Mole, and just old enough to be passionately interested in getting my writing published.  Adrian's rejection note from The BBC is etched in my memory. It went something like this: "At this time of year, the corridors of the BBC are positively reeking with the scent of autumn bonfires and rustling with golden leaves...".  Blogland must be much the same this year, but I just can't resist getting autumnal.
We had our first heavy frost last night, and the leaves are raining down, so in between bouts of housework I ran out and captured these images.