No sun—no moon!
No moon—no noon—
No dawn—no dusk—no proper time of day.
And ends No fruits, no flowers, no leaves,
no birds!—
November!
I can’t share his pessimism. I enjoy the slow collapse of what is now a tousled tangle of brownery, because I know the garden is about to reculer pour mieux sauter. As the bright flowers fade, the green bones emerge. The background shrubs, veiled all summer by brilliant companions, have once again come into their own. And green is a wonderful colour to see us through winter.
I have often thought the browns of grasses and seedheads are less lovely in our wet winters than in the glittering frosts of colder countries. Green remains my winter comfort and there are so many greens to choose from. I am still using box shapes in flowerbeds. The leaves of box, or holly, catch the light in a way that yew never does. I have been lucky, but, if disease strikes, it will not kill the roots of box. Cut the bush to the ground and it regrows fast. Control box caterpillar with Neem.
هذه القصة مأخوذة من طبعة November 22, 2023 من Country Life UK.
ابدأ النسخة التجريبية المجانية من Magzter GOLD لمدة 7 أيام للوصول إلى آلاف القصص المتميزة المنسقة وأكثر من 8500 مجلة وصحيفة.
بالفعل مشترك ? تسجيل الدخول
هذه القصة مأخوذة من طبعة November 22, 2023 من Country Life UK.
ابدأ النسخة التجريبية المجانية من Magzter GOLD لمدة 7 أيام للوصول إلى آلاف القصص المتميزة المنسقة وأكثر من 8500 مجلة وصحيفة.
بالفعل مشترك? تسجيل الدخول
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