A book for Christmas

Welcome to the season of spectacular sunrises. A time of the year when cold air from the Arctic battles warm air from the Azores with dramatic results. 

The four medical students who live in the flat near us in town have decorated their front window in readiness for Halloween. The pile of rugby balls has gone and been replaced by a wig wearing skeleton. The cigarette is a surprisingly artistic touch. It can safely be said that the lads are living life to the full. Their parties are surely 'epic'.

'The Font' picks up a book from the booksellers. It's been highly recommended. I think that it's going to be one of those 'yet another' coffee table type gardening books that is skimmed through and then put in a pile and forgotten.

In fact it's a remarkable tale of making a world class garden in Devon and then visiting, and falling deeply in love with, a Georgian house on a small island in the Orkneys. One of those " I'm meant to live here " moments. The serendipity of the tale is a joy. Serendipity is a little remarked on but important part of life. The chatelaine who waits for years until she's found the right buyer and then, contented the house is in safe hands, dies shortly after the sale is agreed. The battle of establishing a garden in a part of Scotland that's so windy no trees will grow . I'm not sure which chapter is more delightful. This book is alluring in its description of simple pleasures. If you're going to buy an escapist book this year then make it this one for the charm and warmth of the language.

Some of the pictures are heavy on candles and leave us wondering if the house in Orkney has electricity.