The chicory flowers are still persisting.
They’re much smaller, but also brighter.
The tarpaulins which cover the pool get a pounding over the course of the winter.
Their worst enemy is the wind, followed by the sun.
For the first time ever, we’ve actually put 3 tarpaulins on:
The bottom one, dark green, is one year old and reasonably sound but too lightweight to work on its own.
The middle one, red, is brand new this year and not quite big enough in one dimension.
The top one is at least 3 years old with several holes in it.
Let’s hope they all work together well!
Resistance is futile. We can no longer manage without it.
Today we lit the stove for the first time this season.
Galileo was intrigued. It will be his fourth winter but I wonder how well he remembers things.
This rose and rosehips are the very epitome of the destruction wreaked by Winter, the bloom all in tatters and the hips blackened and dessicated.
It’s Out with the Old and In with the New as the rosebush makes way for bud-break and regeneration.
But what a contrast with the beginning of Winter, before the frosts have taken their toll, when the hips are turgid and shiny and the roses have a faded beauty all their own.
I can’t say this decay makes me sad because it doesn’t. My mind is already leaping forward to the promise of new growth – and the pruning that goes with it.
It’s rather like the darkest hour being before the dawn.
I was afraid the drought last summer might have affected the anemones which make a splash of brilliant colour every winter.
But I was relieved to notice leaves appear towards the end of the autumn …
… and then today I saw flower buds!
You can tell this flower will be purple even though it’s just a furry nose peeping out of the greenery.
I’ve got used to there being roses well into the winter, but the rose bush that produced these specimens has surpassed itself.
Its leaves have mostly gone, so the twigs are holding out red hips and red blooms like a forest of head boppers.
I wish the holly tree next door to it would take a leaf out of its book. It has six berries, all on one small branch rather hidden from view. If the birds had noticed, it wouldn’t even have those.
I wish all my visitors a JOYFUL AND PEACEFUL CHRISTMAS.