Autumn is all too quickly disappearing . It is very swift of foot, promising so much lustrous colour and then moments later, just as the wash of colour is intensifying, hey presto the canvas of tawny tones is whipped away with a flutter of leaves in a draught of wind. There they lie, these leaves now muddied and dried out, the bane of the gardener or street sweeper.   Where is their glory now? Nevertheless, the trees stand noble and stark somehow beautiful as they arabesque their outline against the sky; changed but not chastened.