Who could have imagined that a pile of old nuts and bolts in a garden shed could have a life of their own Well, prepare to be amazed as we follow the gravel path by the orchard fence, where young Morris Wainwright once searched for fossils among the polished stones, to an old garden shed with a green pitched roof. It's half hidden by moss and ivy and sheltered from the summer heat by overhanging apple boughs. The window looks onto a garden of tall yellow weeds where a line of shirts and socks flutter in the breeze. Now, if we move a little closer to the lichen speckled glass we may be surprised to see a spider spinning curtains of delicate silk and chatting to a rusty nail, while a pinion from a mangle and a sprocket from a butcher's bike are playing marbles with a wingnut on the bench. Rusty Nail, Wingsey Nut, Young Pinion and Sprocket are just some of the characters whose adventures we share as they struggle to maintain their way of life. Eventually they are forced to leave their old