
Winter in the garden.

Winter in the garden.

Frozen in the winter’s chill.

Another cold start in the north… No filter, just a slightly shaky hand on account of the temperature.

Floral display in the porch of the village hall.

Flowers by streetlight.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning We will remember them.
– Laurence Binyon

My national flower in late autumn bloom.

An autumn cascade of red.

Yet another sign that summer has passed…