My dream is I am standing in a dusting of snow on the farm road which passes the garden gate. The gate is open, held open by an old brick as usual (the route that Hedgehog favours on her afternoon walk in the neighbourhood) and as there is no wind, the wild rose bushes and trees are motionless. It’s quiet. It’s cold, but I’m kept warm by a heavy greatcoat. The ground is luminous. The sky a very dark grey. The snow comes on again, big heavy flakes now, as an Angel, looking across the fields towards the river, appears near the steadings at the end of the road, followed soon after by the tinkling sound of little bells. Hedgehog approaches me, and goes past, leaving little grey daubs behind on the ground, and I see that she has hung around her neck a pale blue ribbon with tiny pink bells. She looks and sounds very pretty (and she knows that I think this as well) as she goes on her way towards the serene Angel who has turned to face her.