The first of the bluebells are out. The way they catch the light – it’s like the first hint of summer, true summer.
The winter clematis thinks so – he’s gone from old boy to old man, strands of his fluffy beard drifting all over the garden.
The first of the bluebells are out. The way they catch the light – it’s like the first hint of summer, true summer.
The winter clematis thinks so – he’s gone from old boy to old man, strands of his fluffy beard drifting all over the garden.
The sun is fading now, but some brave specimens are still eager to catch the last of the golden October light.
In the garden, the bees are buzzing around the ivy, one of the last flowering plants.
© 2025 … and roses too.