Across the vines

The view to the village from the same vineyard as this in January, almost a full cycle ago. Here the grapes have been picked, the smell of fermenting wine fills the air and the leaves are turning yellow, brown, red, depending on variety.

The light is so clear at this time of year, the shadow so sharp. I miss the summer heat but I love the light. The woman in the garage where we bought cooking gas this morning commented on it too.

I'm following the search for the missing five-year-old girl in Machynlleth with sadness and concern. I know Machynlleth well and it's quite like the small west Wales town where my children grew up - thankfully, safely. This feels very close.