An English November

 I regularly check the Met Office's weather forecast. Sometimes it's even right- as it is right now. For those of us who don't do numbers it assigns an icon to every hour- and for days now every hour has sported a lumpy little dark grey cloud. And that's how it's been. No rain to speak of, just an occasional sopping wet mist, and no sun, no sun, no sun.....

But it's not cold- or not terribly cold. No wind either because if there were I suppose the overcast would get broken up. It's an English November- no more, no less- and I find I really quite like it. Grey days and dark evenings stir up childhood memories- sights, smells, sensations, feelings- and all of them pleasant enough....

This morning I've been planting narcissi. I plan a great bank of them at the far end of the garden. Also- to protect my face and hands from stabby, pricky things- I've been cutting back the buddleia and gorse bushes that edge the lawn where the bulbs are going in. 

Picture Diary 67

 Picture Diary 67

1. At the Head of the Valley



2. The Neophyte



3. Evening Ritual



4, Holiday Snap



5 Mad About the Hills



6. Class of ?