Parting gifts

The roses are being kind to me, blooming before we leave. More of the red Munstead Wood are opening and the Abraham Darby has begun, too (including the sick one I moved to the roof a year ago, for what I thought would be a month or two before it succumbed to die back, but it refused to die and is covered in buds).

After yesterday's heat (and airconditioning) the city is wrapped in a cool mist, which will prolong the life of these richly-scented blooms. In the heat of summer their size will diminish and they will gasp out in a day.

But every rose loves May.