Stephen Fry’s “America” is completely charming, and this is one of the better moments. e-sharp: “Chris, don’t think me pretentious. This smell is an autumnal walk in the countryside, probably about 7 miles from Aldershot, on the fringe of an old wood, a spinney or a copse, possibly, if not a spinney, it’s a copse, … Continue reading Stephen Fry’s “America” →