A slight breeze stirs the leaves on The Man's sunflowers and scarlet runners, lining the roadside fence. The neighbour's windmill can be seen above the tree tops, spinning lazily. A cool, quiet morning.
Husband goes about his business, and I deke into the kitchen to make applesauce muffins.
By mid-afternoon a change of scene.
At tea time I venture forth to test the waters, - and find a garden luxuriating in
the heat of the day. The hot sun elicits a most delicious fragrance from the roses and alyssum. It wafts around as you brush past on the shaded garden path, but out on the sunlit patio tea in the breakfast room seems like a good idea.Caspar wanders off into the meadow and is burying his nose in the cool, freshly watered grass. He turns over and rolls in it with intense pleasure, smiling all the while.
Callie, the cat, is investigating what grows in the barnflower jungle, but comes at Husband's call.
I linger to take a few pictures, - pick some ripe sweetpea pods, then gather up the animals and we go in
to have tea wh
ere it is cool.
After tea we go for a drive, and the Wild Clematis almost envelops us as we drive along the back roads. What a year it has been for this lovely wild vine that brings to mind the Sweet Autumn Clematis that grew in the Lost Garden.
It covers the fences, creeps out on to the roads and provides a gorgeous foil for the yellows of the Goldenrod that promises autumn is just behind the highest hill.
After supper I trudge out the back and take a picture of our own little bower of Wild
Clematis.
The evening progresses, - the clouds in the sky thin to long white sheets. The windmill still turns desultorily, behind the trees, and the sky is illuminated by the setting sun. The valley is bathed in a rosy light as the moon rises, silver against the pink background.
Eventually dusk deepens the colours of the sky, and we all go indoors, - me, and the jungle cat, and the sweet old dog.
