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A wander round the garden in this balmy morning’s light diffused by wandering clouds above raised questions about what season we are enjoying.
An industrious web constructing spider, seeking camouflage in the spent marigold seedpods
must have been confused by the plants’ fresh blooms.
By early evening the predator had moved house and wrapped its dinner.
Like many of our bidens, these have self seeded from hanging baskets and tubs.
The Small White butterflies still light on them and many other plants.
Some of the clusters on this lace cap hydrangea have turned blue.
Several hibiscuses are filled with flowers.
Petunias,
phlox,
fuchsias,
and begonias go on forever.
Others, like these antirrhinums in the Weeping Birch Bed
and alongside the Brick Path, are having a new growth surge.
Pansies and geraniums refuse to cede ground to the autumn crocuses,
and the little orange poppies and persistent lobelias really do think it is spring.
Digitalis cavorts with gaura,
and robins and other little birds swing along with rosa glauca’s hips.
It is difficult at this time to find a view that does not include Japanese anemones. Even here, one glows like a coal in the background shadows beyond the Weeping Birch.
Most of the roses are budding again.
Ballerinas are back on stage,
as are Mum in a Million,
Gloriana,
Flower Power, and many more.
When admiring the view through the urn at the southern end of the Brick Path
I did my best to ignore the fresh pile of cut branches produced yesterday by Aaron, Sean, and Rory while cutting down the grizelinias.
Later this afternoon, Jackie drove us to Steamer Point, between Highcliffe and Mudeford. I will publish photographs tomorrow, because I think I have enough on this post today, and because, for reasons that will become apparent, we plan to return in the morning.
This evening we dined on Jackie’s luscious lamb jalfrezi, and omelette-topped onion rice, with samosas and onion bhajis. I drank more of the Fleurie and Jackie drank Le Héron Gros Manseng 2015.