Monday, 3 September 2012


On Sunday I gardened at last, hacking and digging and bashing and making ready for winter. Swallows saw a hobby off the common, over my head, and two lone swifts went south. Next door a heady white Buddleja bristled with butterflies: red admirals, peacocks and small tortoiseshells and, basking on my flint front wall, a speckled wood.

No comments:

Post a Comment