And the nip at the edges has arrived.
It has been a poor summer for the roses. The cooler weather will allow them to bloom longer. But I feel as though we skipped September.
The anemones are engaged in their last hurrah. Then what?
Always, then what.
Strawberries, as ever.
And the plectranthus a late, late blue.
All very well, but there are things to do, giants to slay, dinner to cook.