Moominvalley in November
“It was a very long way there and Toft's legs were short. Everywhere there were deep pools and swamps and great trees that had fallen down with age or been blown over by a storm. Their torn roots lifted huge lumps of earth into the air and underneath them pools of black water glistened. Toft walked round them, he walked round every single swamp and every single pool and didn't get lost once. He felt very happy because he knew exactly what he wanted. The forest smelt good, even better than the He...mulen's boat.The Hemulen himself smelt of old paper and worry. Toft knew it. Once the Hemulen had stood outside his boat and sighed and tugged at the tarpaulin a bit and then gone away,It wasn't raining at the moment but the forest was covered in mist and looked very beautiful, and it got thicker and thicker where the hills went down into Moominvalley, and little by little the pools became rivulets, more and more of them, and Toft walked between hundreds of streams and waterfalls, and all of them were going in the same direction as he was.Moominvalley was very near now, he was there.MoreLess
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