The other day, I had a dream, a powerful, vivid one. I saw an idyllic scene, a place somewhere high up among mountains, great, snowy peaks in the background, in the focus, a small house among the trees. Smoke’s coming out of the chimney, something delicious is cooking inside. There’s a huge, wild garden outside, birds are chirping, squirrels rustling and sprinting away as an old man walks out the door. Under his straw hat, his white hair - with rare hints of light grey - wild as the garde...
