I wondered about the view from my window. Days can go past, and I don't really take a proper look.
One way, all you can see is a great thicket of weeds, consuming half the paved area outside the french windows. It's a depressing tangle of that fiendish mare's tail, creeping lianas of rampant russian vine, and any other plants that take root.
So I look the other way, and am quite pleased with what I see. It's all about how you look at things - is your glass half full, or half empty? Is your patio half full of weeds, or half clear of weeds? Have you half started mending the fence, or half finished it?
It was raining, which is why there are some strange reflections on the glass. I wasn't prepared to go out and get wet.
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| the back garden, 1st October, 8am |
It's hard to remember what it was like, sitting on those benches under the apple tree on long, hot, sunny days, eating olives, drinking chilled sherry and pretending that we were in Spain, just a couple of weeks ago.
The various plant pots are in a very untended state. That's rosemary in one of the pots, and weeds (or a hand fork, how long has that been there?) in the others. All the colour in the garden, apart from every shade of green, is provided by three pink roses.
When I got home in the afternoon, the weather had changed to lovely sunshine.
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