My Garden

When I ventured out into my garden this afternoon, secateurs, labels and plastic bags in hand, the garden said “and who are you?”.  Have I really been away that long?  Possibly, bearing in mind the ubiquitous bindweed and its other dubious mates.  The prime directive was to propagate some of my tender plants; the “just in case’s” the “sensitive souls”.  Just as I was about to remove a prime cutting candidate of Colquhounia coccinea (say that after a couple of sweet sherries) I noticed this handsome grasshopper.  I am sure it is the same one I spotted last year on the fuchsia.  He didn’t recognise me.  This fine furry shoot was left for another day.  I don’t hold grudges.