It’s an island of roses illuminated by the September sun against the dark green foliage of the Bronze Age mound at the bottom of my Lewes garden. I’m told we live on a ley line here in this quirky little town but it may be the collective memory of those Bronze Age folk or merely a trick of the light but looking out of my window at this yesterday, I felt strangely connected to this place. It’s probably just the roses frolicking in their last rush of colour on a cool sunny day but it could also be a sign of the Autumn Equinox just a couple of days away now when ancient peoples, and why not us too, celebrate the equilibium with equal hours of darkness and light. I hope those ghostly Bronze Agers up there on the mound are enjoying it as much as I am.