The ink on Peter's letter dries slowly in the muggy autumn air, the curving arches of his words gradually losing their sheen. The pen lays abandoned on the parchment where it sputtered to an inky halt as its master set it down so suddenly. Little tiny dots of ink mark the page, as tiny and certain as full stops at the end of a sentence, as random as birds in a white sky. A sentence remains unfinished, but it can stay that way for now.
Susan's needle is neatly stowed in her sampler. It glints almost lazily as the sun peeks out from behind a cloud, the wide eye of it winks, yawning as if certain of its security. It is content to sleep and dream amid the silky flowers of pink and green, happy to bide until its mistress returns from the hunt to retrieve it and start again.
The dark surface of Edmund's wine ripples gently as a restless young wind blows in through the open window. It dances wickedly through his study, making the curtains billow and the pages of the books flutter anxiously. The chess men stand ready, mid-battle; the white knight lies on his side, his carved mouth and eyes wide open, as if stricken. He stares at the bottle of wine, unable to believe it has been left barely touched.
Below the window and across the grass, a trowel stands upright in the earth, abandoned. Gay clumps of pansies sit proudly in the newly turned earth, rejoicing in the warm September sunshine - a sea of shining gold, purple and pink. Their comrades sit in trays on the patio, ready to join them. But they do not seem concerned. Their upturned faces nod in the breeze as if in agreement that they can wait. The day is still young, and Lucy will come back soon to put them to bed.
For now, there is a smell of adventure on the air and none can resist it, for there are wishes to be caught. The sun rides high in the sky; there is the promise of apples in the scent of the wind and the busy little moles turn their noses up to sniff it as they work. Winter still feels very far away, and there is all the time in the world to write, and sow, and play and grow. Why not down tools on a whim to ride and chase a dream or two, on such a glorious day?