It wasn’t until about 4 p.m. the afternoon that I realised on glancing through the window beside my desk that the sun had made a fleeting appearance as,
against the still indigo skies, it lit the pink rambling rose rising from the front trellis.
Its deeper pink companion soared above the porch, and the first of the Félicité Perpétue blooms which will drape themselves over the opposite fence has opened out.
I had spent the morning reading and responding to the letters of condolences it has taken me three months to complete. We posted these from Everton Post Office and drove on further into the forest.
Royden Lane took us to
Lower Sandy Down. On the left hand side of this shot stands
a large oak tree the bole of which is home to ferns, ivy, and mosses.
An unusual number of ponies grazed around Hatchet Pond, normally the realm of donkeys.
Stately swans disturbed the surface of the lake which mirrored their images.
A black headed gull was in an equally reflective mood.
This evening we dined on Jackie’s perfect pork paprika; boiled new potatoes; breaded mushrooms; and green beans. The Culinary Queen drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Carmenere.