Summer grasses

Consider yourselves blessed. I have just spent over an hour wading, sorting, filing and sizing pictures from my photo folder.

So instead of a long, yawn-inducing slide night; you get a zippy summary of the grasses in the summery garden.

I am so thrilled the fence along the dry garden edge is blending in so well.

All it takes is a bit of time and a reluctance to go anywhere near the area with a strimmer.

I think that is pompously called using a light hand.

Neglect actually.

Mow the flat bits and let the slopes fight it out.

Take the orchard bank. Boy did it thrive in the spring wet.  I don’t dare do much wading in and weeding for fear of never returning.

Being swallowed by a grass and burped out.

It will be all downhill for the lawn if this drought keeps up. But the miscanthus soldier on.

Damn fine plants.

And in a Neal Mackintosh inspired moment, I creaked down on my knees and took some evening photographs of some iris – shot through the light.

Now do excuse me, I have horses to placate. This is the evening apple moment and if I don’t head up there will be disappointment all round.