Chapter 14
Hard Heartfelt Decisions
Did you notice that in spring the tall grass seems to whisper? As if it were people, all asking for silence. Ssssh, the bright greenish stalks sway, in a waltzing rhythm, asking us to hear the sound of their delight in being reborn.
At night, the wind dies down and the moon appears, drenching my pool garden in a silvery light. I can hear fox cubs yipping in Beardley Park, followed by the solitary hoot of a closer owl.
And then again when the morning comes, the sun will once more appear, stretching its arms chasing away the night to inject life into the garden Salvatore built with so much love for me.
But spring has given way to a dry, hot summer and, in spite of the heat, there is more amusement to be found in London than at Beardley Manor.
For onc
