The last of August


The last day of August always makes me feel a little sad. There is no getting away from the fact that the best of the year is over and there is the steady downhill slide towards the dark days of winter to come. I know there are lots of things to look forward to and enjoy in the autumn and in the winter too, but the last of August is the end of another summer, whatever the weather may say.

We are under a quiet spell of weather, after the wettest English summer since 1956, and I took the chance to take some photographs of roses, to carry the summer through a little longer. The one above is my favourite Abraham Darby, now in a second flush of blooms. This newly opened flower is in its full apricot colouring. It fades after a day or so. Look at those spot free leaves too-I never spray roses so that s another bonus to it. And the perfume is heavenly.


And this is the delightfully named English Miss, another David Austin rose, flourishing where the Council ripped out my lovely golden conifer in July. It has never bloomed so well, so there’s a bonus to come from their destruction. This too has healthy foliage and a divine scent.

I send them as a gift to anyone who reads my blog.

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