Sackville-West's lovely prose deserves to be read slowly, taking in every scene and scent. She had a wonderful ability to convert the most delicate observation into eloquent words. The book opens with a story about her scything rough grass in the orchard as the moon comes up, a charming picture even though I'm aware of how much hard work scything can be. Often seen as an aristocratic, elegant celebrity, Sackville-West is seen here as a countrywoman and gardener with grubby fingernails like any other gardener. This is a short collection of essays that first appeared as a column in the New Statesman and Nation in the early years of WWII. ( )