Autumn has come and just about gone. The reds, oranges and yellows of deciduous trees in the garden has been so lovely to live with - colours would bounce off the walls in the sunroom in the afternoon. There are still some leaves on the old pear tree, and a few roses are still in flower - bonica (which despite being in constant flower I fear is a bit too nanna-pink for my taste); iceberg; heritage; jude the obscure; and felicia (who has proved my doubts wrong) is having a great time in the cool weather. The burnt orange rose Summer Song, now finished for the season, had one last flower that looked so lovely beside the autumn colour of the old pear tree. I have taken some cuttings and stuck them in the ground around the one bush I have, to see if I can create more of this picture next year. I'm still removing over-excited ground covers from around the base of roses. There is talk of The Farmer filling a truck with manure from the cattle yards - too exciting for words.
The fire is burning all day and night, slow cooked beef is often on the menu, and the chooks have taken to wandering underneath the house and sitting under the fireplace -its funny listening to them chatter while I sit in the living room. Pause. Not too much chook-talk - I promised.
No comments:
Post a Comment