This morning, probably for the last time this Summer, we ate breakfast outside. The fair weather we have enjoyed for so many weeks is coming to an end, we hear: a ten degree drop in temperature is forecast for the weekend.
From our garden alcove, we look out over the marmalade to Caroline's pond, fringed with Alchemilla Mollis, and also with these upright Aces of Spades - but of a different hue. The cobwebs don't photograph so easily: they are still more wondrous.
Today is D-day for the sweet peas, all now turned to straw on their sticks: I can then dig in the horse manure, collected from Bentham yesterday, right across the larger vegetable patch. Farewell wild rocket also therefore.