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On another balmy morning I began a tour of the gardens at the front of the house, where
fuchsia Delta’s Sarah blends with the pink Japanese anemones framed by white ones and Michaelmas daisies;
and myrtle
and solanum continue flowering.
Outside the kitchen window, spritely spring poppies emerge alongside ripened sedum,
not far from sprawling autumn crocuses flanked by gauras and geraniums.
This tiny white fuchsia adds variety to the Rose Garden,
and honeysuckle hangs on in there.
Pink is a frequently encountered colour.
The still prolific dahlias Bishop of Llandaff are a richer red, still attracting the bees in their New Bed playground. This whacking great bee bulldozed a smaller boy from this flower with a thumping thud. (I am indebted to Barrie Haynes for correcting the sex of the bullied bee – it is a girl: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Drone_(bee)
He sloped off to another flower. Comparison of the bees against the similarly sized stamens will demonstrate what a big bully we have.
This evening we dined on beefburgers, mashed potato and swede, and cauliflower cheese. I drank Doom Bar.