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That’s the end of summer, then. Or is it? Did summer actually happen this year? The plants are certainly confused. Some spurted on and flowered really quickly before it got any worse, while others bided their time and hung in there, assuming a good spell would come if only they were patient. A bit like people. I’ve always loved those late bloomers, still so keen when everything else has given up. Maybe I also feel empathy with them. I too know how it feels to see everyone around me blossoming brightly while I am still waiting for my moment. I’m not going to say exactly how old I am (it’s too shocking. Well, not that shocking, but a bit shocking... The words 'spring' and 'chicken' don't come
