St Dominic, Tamar Valley: Leaves are filling up the tracks, glimmering in the murky shade, and our garden grows ever-more wild in the dry, mild weather

In gloomy November days, sunshine is at a premium. To the north, mist shrouds Kit Hill’s summit stack, but eastwards occasional streaks of pinkish light reflect on Dartmoor’s faded expanses of purple moor grass.

In the dullness, muted autumnal colours are strangely luminous, contrasting with the continuing growth of greenery. Black Angus yearlings lie content and replete on their lush green pasture; the pedigree herd of pale brown South Devon cattle also remain out of doors, alternated between fields, one distinguished by an ancient free-standing oak and hedgerow beeches. Rooks and jackdaws flock about the almost leafless beech, ignored by two imperturbable buzzards perched on telephone posts, overlooking the brown earth of a cultivated field sown with winter barley.