After I'd crossed the river of stones, reaching the other side without slipping, my attenton leapt out,
stepping over the Do Not Enter chain stretched across the path. Followed Cat tracks etched deeply
into the loam, flecks of yellow leaves and rotten limbs fallen from shivering trees.

She said, "The wild orange groves were felled because they were a fire hazard." She was sitting
astride a horse; my feet were hugging the ground.