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This June is confused. The garden unsure whether to flower or wait. Cold winds, grey skies, rain falling, then sunshine and warmth but nights chill enough for closed windows and the thicker duvet. The last few days have been hot though, temperatures in the late 20s, the still, languid afternoons that we usually expect in June, a taste of summer as it usually is. I can’t say I love it, there’s something characterless about clear blue skies and endless sunshine. I like a cloud or two, a breeze to rifle through the leaves and make the grasses bend. Something in between would be best, the early 20s rather than the late, blue with a scattering of clouds, the odd afternoon storm and a balmy evening to follow. Warm enough to bring the flowers out, cool and showery enough to save on the watering.
With the heat has come a switch, the colours in the garden suddenly deeper, the vibrancy of spring forgotten, the more grown-up hues of summer ushered in. The woods are darker now, the canopy closing up, the leaves thicker, sturdier, letting less light through, their greens no longer lime bright, more camouflage and olive. In the garden the jewel tones are joining the fading spring pinks, the dusky clarets of the first cosmos rubenza, the deep blues and purples of the salvias, the golden straw tones of the grasses that bend and stir in the meadow.
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