The wisteria has excelled itself in fruitfulness this year. It has so many seed pods that walking under the arch which it makes over the steps is like walking through a tunnel hung with multiple bead curtains.
Individually, the pods are heavy and soft: velveteen mice dangling by their tails. They’d be lovely to play with.
The only trouble is they’re poisonous. If there’d been small children around, we’d have had to destroy them long ago. As it is, I’m gradually and reluctantly cutting them down and putting them on the bonfire pile.