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.