It's #SixOnSaturday time again. I, for one, wasn't ready.
The endless harvest, pets needing their jabs, political melodrama back home, CFS giving me stick - no way I'd post this week.
Then El Punko asks if he can take my SoS photos in order to get some practice with his new camera.
No rest for the wicked, it does seem.
1. Harvest continues.
Last week, you saw all the peppers lined up in the shed after being picked early to protect them from the wind. I've been bringing them inside as they develop colour. Between them & the daily gathering of maters, the windowsill is always full.
|The red CA sweet pepper has a symbiotic twin.|
I learned on Twitter from Rob Smith (@RobsAllotment) that cucumelon form tubers that can be lifted & stored over winter. Mine are still producing at a great rate, although a few leaves have turned colour. I suspect it'll be next month before I think about digging them up.
|Cucumelon on the bed spring trellis.|
Continuing the standard set by the California sweet pepper . . .
3. Autumn berries.
They say lots of holly berries means a heavy winter & our trees have lots of berries, but they're going a little bit funny on us. Hopefully none of them will make it into tiny, spiky holly saplings.
|What's happening, Mizzy HollyTree?|
There's also a volunteer snowberry in the garden. Like the holly, I love their berries, hate their propensity to spread. There's just the one this year, but give it time.
|Snowberry caught in a web.|
4. Changing foliage.
In the field where we walk the dogs, the chestnut trees (buckeyes, to me) have started to change colour. Along our street, however, the trees are holding their own. Not so, for the flowers . . .
|Columbine on the cat grave starting to fade.|
. . . or the shrubs.
|Gillenia getting a bit orange around the edges.|
5. Sedum, at long last.
My sedum with the purple stems & leaves (name buried somewhere out of reach at the moment) bloomed in July. This great precursor of summer's end - Autumn Joy perhaps? - has finally got some colour.
|Sedum & the oft-spoken of, crooked cherry tree.|
6. Last Rose.
The only roses in my current garden were grown from seeds I scavenged during a birthday trip to Paris a few years ago. They've all bloomed, but not vigorously, so this last blossom really pleased me.
|Last of the year's blossoms.|
To me, winter, spring & summer are all single purpose. Autumn, on the other hand, is complex, incorporates birth & death. It's got my vote for best out of the 4.
|Now for a snooze.|
And that's my Six for the week.
I'm so glad El Punko wanted some photography practice. Equally glad you stopped by for a gander.
Make sure to run over to Mr P's for links to other blogs. And if you've got a garden to share, he's got guidelines.
See you again, soon!