Today it was not quite summer and not quite autumn, but on the cusp between the two.
The morning was heavily damp – water dripping off the trees and a dampness to the air – not fog or mist, but the evaporation of overnight rain or dew that clears to reveal a sunny day and a clear blue sky.
After lunch, I took a short walk and saw clear signs of seasonal change – the blackberries are past their best; leaves are turning; thistles heads are becoming dry and colourless and an empty conker case lies crushed on the road. In contrast to all this dying are the hops, now reaching their fragrant peak and a last flourish of scarlet and white fecundity in the hedgerow berries.
More surprising were the number of plants still in flower and in some cases still coming in to flower. And then there was this …