August 2013

A big, gusty wind blowing. I see a clothes-line. Old man’s black trousers, shirt, an old-fashioned dress and underwear gyrate madly…

Clothes line-dance wildly,
Only the gale does for us now
what Youth used to!



The roads are tunnels of magnificent, exploding colour…

Mont bretia sparks fly.
Loosestrife in wanton rampage.
The riot’s begun.



Suddenly, the days are filled with butterflies, red admirals and peacocks, mainly, going mad for the buddleia flowers, no wonder it’s called the butterfly bush…

Sweet buddleia cones,
“99”s for butterflies!
The joys of Summer.



With the heat and the rain, the growth is extraordinarily profuse…

A tad blowsy now,
verges slightly past their prime.
Still voluptuous.



And didn’t it rain….the monsoons hit…..

Rainfall so heavy
it could be falling upwards.
Or meeting halfway.