Warm sunshine has returned to our garden.
Looking out of the French windows showed me that Jessie’s moon butterfly solar light, deprived of the sun for three days of gales, can be expected to glow once more after dark, this evening, and
our pair of bird cruets on the kitchen shelf display beneath shadows on the wall led me to wander around the garden on the first of two days while the car is in hospital following an M.O.T. test.
Speaking of hospital I received a message from Boots Opticians saying I was not eligible for cataract surgery. Upon my enquiry this translated as my vision is not yet bad enough. I hadn’t thought it was.
The front fence provided a canvas for the shadow of a chair back,
as did the wooden poppy for those of roses.
Stronger sun than we have seen of late tipped the edges of fluffy clouds and
silhouetted some trees and shrubs, while
a few golden leaves still clung to the Weeping Birch.
The winter Clematis Cirrhosa also caught the sun,
which burnished one of the dead stumps flanking the Back Drive.
This evening we dined on Jackie’s wholesome shepherd’s pie with onion, tomato, and onion additions to the creamy mashed potato topping; crunchy carrots; firm cauliflower, and tender runner beans, with which she drank more of the Sauvignon Blanc and I drank Azinhaga de Ouro reserva 2019