The railway companies are pilloried for delays blamed on the ‘wrong kind of snow’, ‘the wrong kind of ‘sunshine’, and so on. Let’s hope they know the right kind of leaves. There is a bank between the line and the main road, not far south of Ashford. The men have finished planting it with trees, all cosy in their rabbit-proof plastic tubes. I am all for more trees. I just hope these will not be cut down in fifteen years’ time, when they are tall and leafy and lovely, because they have the wrong kind of leaves.