Where I lived in Sussex, we had a wood at the bottom of our garden. I'd spend all day playing there, in spring it was a carpet of daffodils, primroses and bluebells. There was a stream there as well. I'd come home with armful of flowers and absolutely filthy, totally covered in dirt. In autumn was always late for school. The trees were losing their leaves and the pavement was covered in them, and lots of conkers. My white knee length socks (who in their right mind thought that was a good idea as part of the school uniform for primary school kids !!!) would be filthy, and because I was late had to go to the headmistress. I had absolutely no problem explaining to her how exciting it was to hear the crunching of the leaves, and the different beautiful colours and shapes etc etc. My mum was furious when I got home, late again. I didn't care. The headmistress just gave up, her comment to me, I see we meet again, and shake her head.
