What fiction I am reading. “The Wind in the Willows”, by Kenneth Grahame, first published 1908. Reading this is like taking a leisurely stroll. Wind in the Willows is measured by simplicity and brightness, as it follows the beautiful exchanges, pleasantries and adventures of Mole, Rat, Toad of Toad Hall, and Badger, who mirror life in the animal world but have human-like characteristics. Their adventures in the wilds is shadowed by the human world above, with its motor vehicles, while the seasons pass lyrically for animal and human. There is one word for it and I try not to use this word lightly: it’s utterly delightful. I am currently up to page 80 and it’s not dulling.