A cold, bare-ish terrace in winter sun today. The climbing Iceberg still has green if black-spotted leaves, and the Liriope "Pee Dee Ingot" bought from Jim Glover a couple of years ago has proven evergreen, or evergold, and all the roses show shoots. It's too early to prune them: I'll wait for March. It's a terrace of potential, where early catnip leaves open like tiny grey rabbits' paws under the dead brittle stalks, and the bronze baby fennel still shows signs of feathery life.
How many flowers will Abraham Derby bear this year? This very, very different year.